Poetry: SET YOUR RHYTHM
By Tonya-Leah Watts
Set your rhythm, set your pace.
Winning is only part of the race.
I stretched out my legs, and wiggled my toes,
We all lined up in one long row.
It always gets silent at the starting line,
I hear her heartbeat, she hears mine.
The sound of that beat starts to fill my head,
And then I remember what my coach said:
Set your rhythm, set your pace.
Winning is only part of the race.
Judging glances from side to side,
Hair pulled back, shoes tightly tied.
Each runner is smart; she knows her own lane,
And my coach’s words run through my head again.
Set your rhythm, set your pace.
Winning is only part of the race.
Our breathing falters, the bell is raised,
Our bodies are frozen, our eyes are glazed.
Then I melt into my gait, in a moment’s time,
And I can’t stop thinking of my coach’s rhyme.
Set your rhythm, set your pace.
Winning is only part of the race.
Beneath my shoes, I feel acorns crack,
Wet mud or dry sand covers most of the track.
I round the next corner, and low and behold,
The steepest hill ever, standing proud and bold.
My shoulders get heavy, it’s too hard, it’s too high!!
Yet in the back of my head I still hear that cry.
Set your rhythm, set your pace!
Winning is only part of the race.
My swift light footsteps turn into heavy stomps,
I maneuver as if I’m wading through a swamp.
Then finally, finally I reach its peak,
Pain-filled but joyful tears roll down my cheek.
My chest is heavy, my lungs are sore,
Yet that annoying phrase comes around once more:
Set your rhythm, set your pace!
Winning is only part of the race.
As I descend down the hill, I breathe a huge sigh,
I can sense in the air that my end is close by.
Although I cannot see very clear,
As bright as the day, I finally hear,
“When you set your rhythm, and you set your pace,
You’ll always win no matter what you place!”
Tonya-Leah Watts is a Grade 11 Integrated Arts student at Thomas A. Stewart Secondary School in Peterborough, Ontario. She has family connections to Wikwemikong Unceded Indian Reserve.