Ah shoot, the finish line

Finish lines are just like semesters, they're the worst... I wake up in the morning, get to the race track at 8. Take off going down hill. Easy running. Downhill starts hurting more than uphill. I desire uphill. Once I get it, I realize work is better than ease. Nearing the end, everyone starts telling me to run before I'm close enough. I'm exhausted, dead, wanting to stop. The finish line comes into view. My legs start sprinting, its a must, I can't jog through the end, my legs are noodles, barely supporting my weight. My upper body is floating, my lower body is trailing behind a couple yards. The line is a 10 yard dash ahead, I look up at my time, but it doesn't matter anymore. I'm done, I'm finished, I did all that I could. Once I see the other side, less people are there. I passed them, I worked harder. I want to sit, but I stand, standing not for a trophy, but for my own victory. I did it, its over, it's complete... Finish lines are just like semesters, they're the best.