Roar of Lions

I am not in California any more. I am on the plains of Africa. The wind blows across the grasslands, the sun is high in the sky. I glide effortlessly across the land, each footfall moving me forward, the hills around me racing past my eyes.
I hear the roar of lions, and a lion is now running next to me, leaping through the brush as my legs cycle fast and endlessly, the grass whipping by me and the lion leaps….
I see the flames of a black dragon, its wings beating down above me. I feel the raw power of its jaws, its claws as it bursts down from the heavens, accompanying me on my run across a barren landscape where it dwells…
I feel the heat of the jet engine, a MIG-29 accelerates alongside me as I speed through the sky, the cloudscape racing past, and in the fury of my passing through the sound barrier they explode…
And now I am Rocky Balboa and I am running towards the city square, the crowd behind me surging with me but they cannot catch me, because I will win, I am a champion, I mount the stairs and with several bounds I am on top, and they scream Rocky Rocky Rocky…
…Motivational delusions from the Long Beach Half Marathon, 10-16-05.

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