Walking home the other day, I couldn't help but stand at Cockle Bay and slowly allow my senses to drift away. The sound of people sitting down to dine away or the scent of fumes emanating from the oversized grill or the taste of the salted chilly air. It was then that I realised prisoners and athletics have a lot in common and me probably having more in common with the former.
In both professions (yes, being a prisoner can be a profession for some), individuals are forced to endure rigorous amounts of training, sweat and tears. They are driven hard and further than they have ever been and behind them, casting an encompassing gaze will be the guard/trainer. They are there to give support and praise or put downs and discouragement. Their purpose is to ensure you do not lose sight of your goal and dreams and to make sure you walk out proud.
Unlike prisoners or athletes, I do not have a trainer. I have no one to offer encouragement, fetch some liquids, rub away my aches or crack a whip or scream at me when I lose sight of the final finish line.
But at least when I walk out of those gates, I will be able to relax and enjoy Sex and the City, the movie.
posted by tykang @ 5/09/2008 03:55:00 PM
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