The Word in Focus with Dr Larry Taylor

Stretches done, psyched up, runners at their blocks,  

A gunshot

The first of twenty-five 400-meter laps – 10,000 meters in all

By the end of lap one, the runners are spread out,

One or two trailing so far behind one gives up hope for them

While admiring their tenacity, dogged determinism.

One or two building a commanding lead to the cheers of the crowd.

By the end of lap 12, they are more spread out, but positions have shifted

Initial frontrunners have dropped back, already winded, 

A pack begins to develop as they slowly bunch more together so that

By the 21^st lap, they are closely grouped; 

It appears to be almost anyone’s race at this point.

As the last lap begins and the excitement crescendos and the

Television coverage stops cutting to commercials, 

Commentators nearly shout with enthusiasm, family members scream

As one runner, one that had been the entire race, quite far behind,

Is coming fast on the outside, head tilted to the sky, legs flying, arms pumping.

Twenty-five runners, twenty-five laps, now all neck-in-neck

It is the one on the outside who vaults and lunges through the electronic tape

A millisecond before any of the others. 

All 25 runners finish within five seconds of each other.

Some drop to the ground gasping, others, hands on hips, walk,

Some smile, some in agony, crowd on their feet, awaiting

Official results – it was too close to see with the naked eye.

Winners announced, fractions separating first from twenty-fifth

All ran well.

Winners shun the podium – a line of 25 racers

Arms around one another’s shoulders

No flags, no nationalistic symbols

Identical running clothes, 

Wearing identical running shoes,

All of identical build and height,

Twenty-five identical runners.

Curious, I look closely.

They are all me.