I Lived!

“Keep going!” screamed my trainer. I was too tired to budge. “See the crowd!” he continued. Well, there was no crowd, it was just me and him, making me wonder what he had been sniffing. “Close your eyes and hear them!” he insisted. It was easier to comply than argue, so I closed my eyes, and then, not only did I see the crowd, I also heard them! There were hundreds—actually, thousands—of them, shouting, chanting my name, urging me on and willing me to do well. I was fuelled, energised by their energy and encouragement.

I had been training and preparing for the event. It had been hard, arduous and involving strict discipline. My diet had been controlled, no sugar, no white flour, no this, no that, no nothing! Training had been going well, I was as fit as a fiddle, my abs were razor-sharp, my moderate-sized biceps were rock solid and my routine was flawless. I had kept things together, pretty well mentally and spiritually. I confessed right, I meditated, I visualised. Yes visualised.

The hall was packed full. I was doing my thing, totally in my element. The applause was deafening, the hall was bursting at the seams. It was my day, the day of the event. I was backstage, doing my pre-event rituals, a little bounce, a little fast punching the air, stretching here and there, a silent prayer. I heard my name called. I moved to go on stage, closed my eyes and blocked my ears. I didn’t want to be distracted by the noise of the crowd or intimidated by the sheer size.

Once in the middle of the stage, I slowly opened my eyes and unblocked my ears. There was no crowd, just a handful of people, literally a handful! I was deflated, I could feel my biceps losing air fast, and my abs went wobbly. I couldn’t remember my routine, there was no fuel! In that split second, all I could think of was those cream cakes I had deprived myself of. “Why?” my heart cried.

At that moment, I looked at the handful of people that had paid to attend and I knew I owed them. I regrouped, closed my eyes again and there was my crowd, my tribe, in their multitude, urging me on again. I was fuelled, pumped up, and went on to perform my life! I emptied it all onstage, not a drop was left in me! As I finished, my ‘handful’ went wild. In unison, as if planned, they rushed onstage, lifted me and started an unrehearsed but synchronised dance. Their joy was unparalleled.

In the end, I went backstage and made my way home. Whilst at the back of the car, I looked out of the window. The ‘handful’ was now a homogeneous group, chatting away like long lost family. Their faces shone and I said to myself, “I lived!”