Morning all. I hope you are ready for the morning prompt because I know I am. So let’s just dive on into it before anyone else wakes up. Ready, times set and off we go.
I kind of like this. I love stories where people are reaching the end of one path and having to figure out a new one. Not bad for a morning writing in a different place. I am a creature of habit and it always feels strange to write someplace different.
Monday, July 24th: The disappointment weighed heavily.
The disappointment weighed heavily. He wanted to win. Just once, he wanted to win. It was his time. He felt it, knew it. And yet it slipped through his grasp. He couldn’t blame anyone or anything. He did his best. His final score was three point two seconds faster than his best ever time.
There was nothing he could have done better. He was at the top of his form.
And yet, it wasn’t enough.
He had been beaten by point eight seconds. Point eight. It might have been an hour for all it mattered. It didn’t matter that the person who came in behind him was five point three seconds behind him. He didn’t win.
He smiled though and wished the winner well as he took his second-place award and stepped back into the shadows to allow the first place winner the spotlight. He behaved with dignity and good grace.
He could not say the same thing for the others. When all the crowds were cone, when the cameras were packed up, the polite smiles faded. The recriminations began. He should have done better. He should have won. They were full of things he should have done. Did it matter that none of them could have come close? Did it matter that he had given everything he had and had been doing so for years.
No.
He spent a lifetime inching towards a better performance, of getting better with each new effort by points of seconds. None of it mattered now because he let them down. They were crushed with disappointment that he could not bring them the final victory.
Eventually they left him alone. His training kicked in and he stretched his limbs, cooling them down and easing the strain in his muscles. He took care of his body and did what needed to be done before finally heading back to his room.
‘Second place was good,’ he told himself. It was a hollow and slightly depressing thought. He knew this was his last chance. He was still young, but he knew the clock was ticking. He would soon start slowing down. This was the best he was ever going to be. He knew it and they knew it, which was why the others were so disappointed. His best wasn’t good enough.
‘Maybe it is for the best,’ he thought. He knew now where he stood. Had he come in first, they would have cheered. They would have stuck by him no matter what he wanted. They would have pushed him for more endorsements and more and more of everything that they believed his winning would bring them. Now there was none of that and they were all gone.
He took a deep breath and felt something loosen up inside him. He realized he was free. The trainers might make one more bid for another year, another training session to push one last effort out of him before his body started to slow and they were forced to move on to other, younger, fresher athletes. But he was sure he could easily talk them out of it. He knew they had others waiting in the wings already. The only reason they would still go after him is because of his slight time increase this time around. After the disappointment faded, they would see that and think he might still be of use.
If he walked away, he walked away at the top of his game and wouldn’t have to listen to the television hosts talk about him as over the hill. ‘But what would I do?’ he thought. It was a novel question. All his life someone structured things for him. Soon, there would be no one. He would be on his own.
Ten til Midnight 