Marathon

Paula dreams of Olympic gold.

Words296

Paula could almost taste the victory. She knew how it would feel when she flew past the finish line. The crowd’s cheers would ring in her ears, but in that crowd was her mother and it would be her voice she’d hear.
Mum. Paula was doing it for her. She wanted to repay her for all those years of driving to training, all those hours standing on the sidelines cheering her daughter on.
Did she ever think she’d be representing her country? Paula’s mind took her back to high school when the sports talent scouts came. Immediately they’d spotted Paula had what it took to be a runner; her height and her long limbs made her an ideal candidate for the sport. After so many years of competition and training, today was the pinnacle of her career. The Olympics, running for Australia. Her dream.
The Marathon. The name says it all. At the halfway point, Paula knew everything was going to plan. She was one of the front runners of the eighty competitors. She felt good, her breathing, rhythmic, her strides, even. The first six miles had been easy. The chaos at the start when all the runners left the stadium hadn’t forced her to run too fast, she’d kept her equilibrium.
The sound of her feet pounding the road soothed her as she covered the 26.2 miles. Still feeling good she reentered the vast stadium, the end in sight, a couple of hundred yards to go. Another runner closed in behind; the front of her shoe clipped Paula’s heel, bringing her down hard.
“I don’t need help,” she gasped, knowing if someone touched her, it meant disqualification. She stood and limped past the finish line to the roar of the crowd. And her mother’s voice.