On the rough journey back, the body was extremely dehydrated.
What I see with my sight is the vision of drought and sore.
Whimpering out loud for some comfort or magic potion to earn extra flow of rhythm that is capable
of bringing me home.
How I wished Anton can fetch me from his work since he use to dismiss around that clock.
Feeling the rough and uneven itch that has just protruded on my palms and fingers,
I flashed back at how the program was carried out.

Every slides of the training sets and activities drift past slowly to the back of my mind.
And I loathe the running part when all of our protein synthesis had reached the limit, and we had to cover the given distance within a given time.
Most confessed that it was much tougher than 'National Service'.
I am always the last one in the race though it was not that bad.
Many times my legs fail me to control my pace. I tell myself that if I were to stop,
I would be affecting the team morale and there could be a possibility that I would repeat such a pessimistic attitude again.

Sometimes determination would mean "completing the race, regardless of how far behind you are compared with the rest".

I closed my day, whispering a short prayer, confessing to Father that I couldn't live without sports. Thanks for giving me this daily bread.

another bitter escape
6:49 AM