Infinite Loop

Around this track,
why am I running
on such a sweltering noon?

My head is boiling,
and lungs deflating,
like a punctured balloon.

The pack left me
many meters behind
seven laps ago,

and the coach is screaming
out directions that
no one seems to know.

I wonder, who cares of
medals, adulation,
and talent that I do lack.

Again it comes, the
nausea, cramps and vomit,
I must hold back!

But, wait, not far!
Ahead, the finish line,
approaches steady and fast.

Across it I stride,
Someone else still behind?!
The first time I'm not last!