Falling Hard

First, let me set the scene: a cheering crowd, the fire of the starting gun, and 7 or so girls racing towards the finish line. This was the first track meet held at my school for the year, and there I was...winning! I had always been good at the 200 yard dash. The race started on a curve, and everyone knows that people with short legs take curves better and faster. Once I got to the straight away, I was on a roll! Then...BAM! or some other more appropriate sound effect. I fell. Not like the trip or stumble kind of fall. The kind of fall where you slide and people stare and cringe in pain for you. A million thoughts raced through my m ind. Do I get back up and finish the race? Or, do I lay here and wait for someone to come and save me? Well, considering how I was now painted onto our school track's asphalt, I decided to lay there. Someone did eventually rush to my aid, and many bandaids were applied. Only witnessing the beginning and middle of the race where I was obviously going to win, my coach ran to ask me what time I finished the race in. My only response was "I didn't."