Finishing well. It is really the mindset or spirit behind it. Some people have it, some people don't. Some people persist at it, while others do not see a need to live by it. A code of honour is not something that is common among all. This is why it is only when people come together with a common belief, that even much more can be achieved.
I recently tripped over an uprooted tree branch or root while running. Fair enough that it was relatively dark at 8pm, but at times like this, the air seemed fresh when running at night. You have got to try it to know how it feels. The gush of the wind pass my face, as I take each stride, propelling my running form through the night at the park. Splendid! I really felt so free...
That is until I tripped and fell, with the top of my right knee hitting the ground first, absorbing about 85% of the impact, plus the abrasion from the sandy surface. My left knee was pretty much unaffected, as I had cushioned my fall with both hands. To much of the surprise of those who were jogging or walking around when they saw me fall, I simply got up and continued my run. It didn't make sense to stop to examine my knee because my mind had a singular focus - which is to complete my 5km run that evening; and a scratch and bump at my knee seemed like the lamest reason to give up when I was already 4km into my intended distance for that evening.
As I continued running, I began to feel a damp feeling at my right knee. Looking down, I saw that my entire right knee was soaked in blood, which took me by surprise as I thought that it was just a simple abrasion. Surely there would be scratch marks and some bleeding... but not this bad. Nonetheless, my right knee worked just fine, so I persisted in completing my final 1km before I finished this short distance for the night.
I did finish the distance, in fact at a much faster pace; and it really helps to push forward when both my palms were covered in blood, when I attempted to stop the bleeding. As usual, the pain was there when I washed the wound at the toilet. By then, my knee has started to numb, but I could walk home. Till now, I still wonder whether the numbness was more difficult to cope with, or the stares of people who looked shocked at my knee (and the top of my socks soaked with a small patch of blood), as I walked and jogged my way home from the nearby park.
My knee definitely took a few weeks to recover, as it was probably my most serious knee abrasion and impact that I have ever sustained throughout my years of running. Nonetheless, it is not the recovery process that holds in my mind, but the spirit behind my determination to finish the run that evening. After all, my injured knee was fine and I could finish the run with absolutely no problem at all.
I knew that if I had chosen to give up right where I fell, forever I will remember that I had given up, whenever I returned to run at this park. No... I do not wish to live with this memory. Rather, I chose determination as my decision to finish what I had started. The courage to finish well. The spirit of sportsmanship behind it all.
I recently tripped over an uprooted tree branch or root while running. Fair enough that it was relatively dark at 8pm, but at times like this, the air seemed fresh when running at night. You have got to try it to know how it feels. The gush of the wind pass my face, as I take each stride, propelling my running form through the night at the park. Splendid! I really felt so free...
That is until I tripped and fell, with the top of my right knee hitting the ground first, absorbing about 85% of the impact, plus the abrasion from the sandy surface. My left knee was pretty much unaffected, as I had cushioned my fall with both hands. To much of the surprise of those who were jogging or walking around when they saw me fall, I simply got up and continued my run. It didn't make sense to stop to examine my knee because my mind had a singular focus - which is to complete my 5km run that evening; and a scratch and bump at my knee seemed like the lamest reason to give up when I was already 4km into my intended distance for that evening.
As I continued running, I began to feel a damp feeling at my right knee. Looking down, I saw that my entire right knee was soaked in blood, which took me by surprise as I thought that it was just a simple abrasion. Surely there would be scratch marks and some bleeding... but not this bad. Nonetheless, my right knee worked just fine, so I persisted in completing my final 1km before I finished this short distance for the night.
I did finish the distance, in fact at a much faster pace; and it really helps to push forward when both my palms were covered in blood, when I attempted to stop the bleeding. As usual, the pain was there when I washed the wound at the toilet. By then, my knee has started to numb, but I could walk home. Till now, I still wonder whether the numbness was more difficult to cope with, or the stares of people who looked shocked at my knee (and the top of my socks soaked with a small patch of blood), as I walked and jogged my way home from the nearby park.
My knee definitely took a few weeks to recover, as it was probably my most serious knee abrasion and impact that I have ever sustained throughout my years of running. Nonetheless, it is not the recovery process that holds in my mind, but the spirit behind my determination to finish the run that evening. After all, my injured knee was fine and I could finish the run with absolutely no problem at all.
I knew that if I had chosen to give up right where I fell, forever I will remember that I had given up, whenever I returned to run at this park. No... I do not wish to live with this memory. Rather, I chose determination as my decision to finish what I had started. The courage to finish well. The spirit of sportsmanship behind it all.
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