A Runner's Pain

It was the final leg of the race. His chest ached, and his feet were sore from the hard running, threatening to collapse under him. How he wished he could just stop, just stop there by the side of the path. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep pushing his legs forward. Yet he pushed himself on relentlessly, determined not only to complete the race, but complete it ahead of others. He rounded a bend, and the finishing line was in sight. Pulling himself together with renewed vigour, he picked up speed, as he sprinted towards the finish line. He just had to keep going. He just had to cross the line. Nothing else mattered. He crossed it. He could feel the people cheering. He could feel it. He had done a good race, he had finished a personal best. He was indescribably tired, but yet, he was proud, as he crossed the line.

Thaddeus, this is for you. I'm proud of you, that you managed to do your personal best, but yet, I'm filled with sorrow and grief. Such incidents may have happened before, but yet...it's so shocking, because I never imagined that it would ever happen to you. You were a good friend in Cross Country, enthusiastic and cheerful. You had a promising life ahead of you, but yet you just...left like that. I find it hard to express the sorrow that I feel. I haven't come to terms with this yet, don't think I ever will. You ran well. Rest in peace.

For those who don't know what this is about, please read Straits Times (Monday). And no matter what faith you believe in, please pray for him.