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From the start you tell yourself no way.           

This Battle is far too great,

The road too long.

As you tell yourself these things you think,

FORWARD.           

The bends look treacherous.

You feel the ache coming on,

You feel the weak waiting to take over.

As you fight your self-doubt,

FORWARD.

The Race is too long.

Fighting has worn you out.

You Fall to the ground.

Bloody,

Tearstained,

Lost.

There’s no more strength,

FORWARD.

Race till you fall,

FORWARD.

Race till you’ve got nothing inside of you,

FORWARD.

Race for every ounce of passion you’ve ever had,

FORWARD.

Race for whom you love,

FORWARD.

Race for everything you stand for,

FORWARD.

Your identity.

Your Mission.

There is a finish line.