All of us at the start were evenly paced. All I could think about was moving each leg forward. My muscles felt like they were dragging through mud as I ran, barely keeping up with the others at full sprint. ‘I have to go faster. Faster than him, this is my first step…. I can’t lose!’
I looked over to see Josh smiling victoriously.
Josh began to shout. “Come on Takeo, you can go faster than that right?” He stuck his chin out at me. The proctor jumped at Josh and commanded him to stop. His face was apathetic to the proctor’s commands. His eyes were focused on me.
He wasn’t the only one, everyone’s eyes were on me. Charlotte, Roger, the proctor, and Josh, all people here to see me fail or succeed. Their stares brought even more weight to my struggling body. I felt my legs start to slow down. ‘No, I have to keep going.” I grunted as my legs screamed out in protest to the punishment I was putting them through. One by one my muscles rebelled against my resolve.
The pain brought a tear to my eyes but it wasn’t why I was crying. ‘I’m losing, aren’t I? All this work I’ve put in will be for nothing. I can’t win.’ My pace became even slower now as I dropped into a jog. The other runners gained a bigger advantage each second. We were at the 200-meter mark now. It was hopeless for me. Not only did it feel as if I was running through mud, it felt like I had been shackled by a ball and chain. My muscles have finally seized control and I came to a grinding halt.
My hands clasped my knees as I was gasping for air. I struggled to swim to the surface of my internal anguish. ‘I’ve lost....’ Tears streamed down my cheeks. Like my eyes were flooded with tears my mind was flooded with a memory of my dad in an interview on TV.
***
There was my dad in all his glory. A few centimeters shorter than Roger and nowhere near as bulky. However, he was a big guy. He had dark brown shaggy hair just like me and dark green eyes.
“Mr.Takeo, how did you win against a strong opponent like that?” The lanky reporter looked very nervous while interviewing my father. He jaunted the Mic in my dad’s face to solicit a response.
“Well, I live my life by a code. Just sticking to what I’m good at.” my dad gripped his own chest in pride. The press around him started murmuring loudly. Another interviewer, a woman, approached him this time.
“Sir, how can doing what your best at in an uneven battle get you as far as you’ve come?” Her face was very skeptical, probably of my dad’s ideological tone. He sounded like a corny superhero after all.
“Ah, this is something much harder to accomplish.” My father looked at the camera and smiled. “However, it’s quite the simple answer I’m afraid. The key is to just stick to what I’m good at and go beyond those limits into infinite resolve. This is what it means to be a fighter at heart. This is the Takeo way!” He gave a thumbs up and posed for the camera.
“Mom, I want to be a fighter just like daddy.” It was a younger version of myself, probably about 4 years old. My mother smiled and kneeled down to kiss my forehead. “Honey, you will be stronger than even him one day. After all, you are our son.” She hugged me gently and patted my head.
***
I faded back to reality instantly and heard a loud shout from the stands. It was from Roger. “Come on boy! Go beyond your limits into infinite resolve!” He waved frantically. Tears rolled down my cheek as the other runners were 200-meters away from the finish line. ‘I have to stick with what I’m good at, and then go even further beyond those limits.’ I started a deep breathing technique focusing chi into every fiber of my body. The pain faded away and my muscles found new energy.
“AH!” I screamed as I took off at a superhuman pace. My body worked in tandem with my inner resolve, launching itself forward to inevitable victory. ‘Everything my dad left me is depending on this moment.’ I used the weight of the states to leverage me forward. ‘If they want to watch, they can watch me...Win!’
I was gaining on the runners now as my feet propelled like a jet from the ground every time I stepped. They glanced back at me in shock as I passed them. Only 100 meters left to go. Then the crowd of contestants began to chant my name.
“Nogu! Nogu! Nogu! Nogu!” It was a ceremonious chant for my victory. The crowd demanded it.
This invigorated me to go even faster than before. ‘My resolve will win this race and Josh will see it.’ 70 meters. 60 meters. 50 meters all gone in a flash. I way outran the other runners. My muscles were giving up once again and my skin was burning from the chi coursing through the air. ‘Thirty meters, this is it I have to keep going!’
Just then I lost my footing and tripped. It was as if time slowed to a halt. I could see the ground cloning closer as I was about to faceplant on the track. ‘I have to use my last bit of chi to propel myself using the defensive palm technique.’ My right hand swiveled around and touched the ground which helped me regain my footing.
‘Fifteen meters to go!’ Just like that I shot across the finish line. I came to a stop slowly and put my fist into the air. The morning cooled my battered body as I was filled with the bliss of victory. ‘Thank you Roger, mom, and dad, I did it.’
“Takeo’s time is! 40 seconds!” The proctor exclaimed. “This is a new world record even for super martial artists. Good Job kid!” The crowd around me began to cheer, Josh had disappeared somewhere. Probably to shield his ego from the damage it received.
“Thank you!” my vision began to fade as I collapsed. ‘Thank you…’
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