Brain Sprinting

I'm running.
Fast. Quick. Swift. Agile.
The sweat is running wild,
crawling over my face and body,
getting caught in the wind.
My pores shut down and stop exerting themselves.
I'm in overdrive,
my body turns pale,
the blood is rushed to my legs
for the final sprint.
My breathing
exhausted, labored, steady, ready.
The force of the speed at which I run is daunting.
The goal appears in the distance.
The turmoil is and pain is extensive.
The damage is numbing.
The sweat has started again on my face.
It sprints to its' own goals.
I wake up to find my brain breathing heavily,
and tears on the pillow.
The goal is just within reach.
I got this.