The Race
Quit! Give up, you're beaten, they shout at me and plead.
There's just too much against you no, this time you can't succeed.
And as I start to hang my head in front of failure's face,
My downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
And hope refills my weakened will as I recall that scene.
For just the thought of that short race, rejuvenates my being.
A children's race, young boys, young men, how I remember well,
Excitement, sure, but also fear. It wasn't hard to tell.
They all lined up, so full of hope, each thought to win the race;
or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
And rathers watced from off the side, each cheering for his son.
And each boy hoped to show his dad that he would be the one.
The whistle blew and off they went, young hearts and hopes afire.
To win and be the hero there was each young boy's desire.
And one boy in particular whose dad was in the crowd,
Was running near the lead, though, my dad will be so proud.
But as they speeded down the hill across a shallow dip,
the little boy who thought to win lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his hands flew out of brace.
And mid the laughter of the crowd, he fell flat on his face.
So, down he fell and with him hope. He couldn't win it now.
Embarrassed, sad, he only wished to disappear, somehow.
But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
Which to the boy so clearly said, "get up, and win the race. "
He quickly rose, no damage done. Behind a bit, that's all.
And ran with all his might and mind to make up for the fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
His mind went faster than his legs, He slipped and fell, again!
He wished then he had quit before, with only one disgrace.
"I'm hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn't try to race."
But on the laughing crowd he searches and found his father's face;
That steady look which said, again, "get up and win the race! "
So, up he jumped to try again, ten yards behind the last.
If I'm to gain those yards, he thought, I've got to move real fast.
Exerting everything he had, he regained eight to ten.
But trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell, again.
Defeated, he lay there silently, a tear dropped from his eye.
There's no sense running anymore, no need to even try.
The will to rise had disappeared, and hope had fled away;
So far behind, so error prone, a loser all the way.
I've lost, so whats the use, he thought, I'll live with my disgrace.
But then he thought about his dad, whom soon he'd have to face.
Ge up, an echo sounded low, Get up and take your place!
You were not meant for failure here. Get up and win the race!
With borrowed will, get up, it said, you haven't lost it all.
For winning is no more than this; to rise each time you fall.
So, up he rose once more, and with a new commit,
He resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn't quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he'd ever been.
Still he gave it all he had and ran as though to win.
Three times he'd fallen, stumbling, three times he rose again.
Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.
They cheered the winning runner as he crossed the line, first place;
Head high and proud and happy, no falling, no disgrace.
But when the fallen youngster crossed the line last place
The crowd gave him the greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last with head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he'd won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad, he silently said, "I didn't do so well. "
"To me, you won " his father said, "you rose each time you fell. "
And now, when things seem dark and hard and difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy helps me in my race.
For all of my life is like that race with ups and downs and all
And all we have to do to win is rise each time we fall.
Quit! Give up, you're beaten, they still shout in my face;
But another voice within me says, " GET UP AND WIN THE RACE! "
This is one of my favorite poems. I'm not sure who it is by.
In life we are always going to have our ups and downs.
Every time we fall down we need to get back up.
There are so many people rooting for us and we don't want to let them down.
I know that by getting back up every time we go through tough/crappy situations, we become that much stronger!
Favorite quote (I think this quote goes hand in hand with this poem):
" How you think about a problem is more important than the problem itself. So always think positively."
- Norman Vincent Peale
