Made it there to the halfway mark
I made it in good time
I have plenty of time left
I can easily finish this
Remind yourself of how you were defeated
Maybe not on paper but in your mind
That feeling weakened you
Now though it carries you forward
It’s the reason you keep going
You won’t stop at this
You won’t stop at nothing
The whole reason you started this
Do you forget?
It was to do what you tell yourself
If you fail at this, it’s over
You’ll fail at everything else too
Failure is no option
Death is acceptable but not failure
You go and finish what you started
Reaching the halfway mark used to feel like survival. Now it feels like control. You’re not crawling to this point—you’re arriving with energy to spare. You’re no longer reacting to the pain—you’re directing it. Time is on your side, but even if it weren’t, you’d still finish. Because now you remember what made you start. It wasn’t about speed. It wasn’t even about achievement. It was about not breaking your word to yourself. That’s the real finish line—honoring the standard you set.
You’ve been here before. Not just in movement, but in thought. You remember what it felt like to lose—not on paper, but in spirit. That silent retreat inside yourself when you convinced yourself you couldn’t go further. That version of you didn’t finish. But he’s not here now. This one is. And that old sting, instead of breaking you, now pushes you. It reminds you what not finishing costs. And you’re not willing to pay that price again.
You’ve made a vow. And vows like this are sacred—not to others, but to your future self. You said you’d finish, so you finish. No questions. No negotiations. This isn’t just about this run, this rep, this task. It’s about becoming someone whose decisions are final. Someone who doesn’t wait for belief to act—they act until belief returns. You don’t fear failure because of what others might think. You fear it because you’ve seen what it does to your own spirit. So now, you choose death over defeat. And that’s why you’ll win.
