Lane four. That was his lane number. With hands on his hips he paced around the starting line on his lane like the other athletes. He did a few stretches like he always did before every race. The officials were still sorting out a few things, athletes names, lanes, lane numbers and other details. In his usual fashion, he lifted his head towards the stands to take a look at the thousands that had come to watch the race. Different nationalities, different facial gestures, styles of dressing, flags, maybe they all had different reasons for being there in the first place. One thing was certain; they were all eager for the race to begin. He waved at the section of the stands where that held his home crowd and they responded with cheers, ecstatic drum beating and flag waving. He was glad his old mum had made it to the race. They had travelled thousands of miles to be there and he had to show them what they came there for; his talent. He was not just their hero he was his hero too. He believed in himself.
He took a quick glance at his competitors, huge in size and sharp in sight, they all looked as determined as he or maybe even more. For a second he almost felt like he won’t be up to the task but then those same words came ringing in his head; ‘worrying gets you nowhere, run your best the rest will take care of itself’
He had not come this far just to worry about how others looked or what they would do. None of them seemed worried by his presence so why should he be worried of theirs? ‘Life doesnt work that way’, he murmured to himself. He had had this same dialogue with himself over and over and he’d resolved to train, turn up and race. He had trained and turned up. What could stop him now?
They all knelt down on their lanes as they waited for the official to pull the trigger. He could hear his heart beat faster than the drums that sounded from the stands. So this was it. This was the moment every athlete on those lanes for months had been waiting for. Some were there to bring their country glory. For others it was to make a name while for some it was for family pride. For some, it was just because they loved to race. The reasons were many and varied. He didn’t care about them. For him, he wasn’t just there only because he loved to race or for national pride; he was there to beat the clock. Yes, to beat the clock for that was what he had built a reputable career upon.
Worrying gets you nowhere. If you turn up worrying about how you’re going to perform, you’ve already lost. Train hard, turn up, run your best and the rest will take care of itself. – Usain Bolt