Go for Gold

by Michele deBes

I’m driving fast in a Lotus Elise. It’s black and sleek, with silver wheels and they are shimmering with sea mist. I’m racing my friends and they are around me on the long sweep of coast road. I’m slipstreaming the Ferrari in front of me waiting for my chance. We get to the turn and as Ferrari goes a little wide, I power through tight before she notices. The G forces are painful but my Lotus body distributes the load, the finely tuned machine responds to the challenge, the wheels flashing as they hug the road. I pull ahead out of the corner and into the straight with only one car in front. I move my thumb to the red button on the steering wheel and press firmly. The super boosted overdrive surges into life, pouring power into my wheels, catapulting me towards and then past my last rival. The finish line is clear in front of me and I ride the multiblast spinning wheels home.

10 9 8 7 6 5
open my eyes
4 3 2 1
awake and refreshed.

Katrina stretched her hands over her head as she gazed up at the ceiling, savouring the delicious sense of wellbeing her sessions brought.

Today was the day. She was representing Australia in the 200 metre sprint.

Her alarm sounded but she couldn’t reach it on the night stand. However much thought went into the design of the Olympic facilities, it couldn’t replace the quirky bedroom she had at home where everything was designed around her reach factor.

She pushed herself up on to her arms and looked down at the wheelchair that nudged against the bed. She could only afford to bring her racing rig and that was at the track, so she had to use one the host nation provided. It was a sobering reminder of how the other half lived.

Ok lets go for a ride and be gentle on me, she said as she swung herself down into the chair and slid her paralysed legs carefully down, momentarily supporting their weight with her stomach before settling down.

Her back complained but that was nothing new. Now that she was in serious medal contention, more services were available, and she had an hour booked with the physio before her race, to get aligned and strapped.

This was her third Olympic Games. She made the final in the first games, a surprise to herself and her coach if she’d had one. She came a tantalising fifth in second games, a very exciting race. Her times where improving steadily. She was doing speeds well up with the top two in this unpredictable sport. No one could stop her today. It was the best she had ever felt, the training, the autogenics, the physio, everything was working. She smiled and hummed a tune as she rolled gently down the long halls following the noise of breakfast.

The team physio knew her well. He kept talk to a minimum and gave her a moment to settle.

After a good session at the warm up track, it was easy to let her breathing lengthen and slow and feel the trance move in like a long slow wave.

I’m in a moonlit garden lying on silk rugs on an ancient stone alter. It’s summer and there is a cool breeze relieving the days heat, keeping the towering branches murmuring. It brings the scent of night gardenia, drifting in and away again. Angel approaches dressed for training in his black akido linen. He gives instructions in his minimalist way as he gently positions my body and leans into my pain. The heat from his body warms my muscles. His hands are careful and then breathtakingly demanding as he embraces me in his slow precise ritual. He knows my body so well and he prepares me for battle like no other can. Willow glides in with a healing spell and I can feel the white soothing light centred on my lower spine, enriching and strengthening the muscle tissue. Buffy and the crew patrol the woods outside and hunt the degenorons who lurk in the forest.

Angel is satisfied and pats me on the shoulder. It is predawn and he must away.

7 6 5
eyes open
4 3 2 1
awake and refreshed

Katrina smiled up at the physio.

You are so ready. he said smiling back. Come on let’s strap up that back.

Noise and sweat and glare and heat that blasted up from the red track. Her arms pumped the wheels, straining around the bend, but gaining on the two ahead. They entered the straight and she hit overdrive, closing the gap to Italy quickly and gaining on the leader. The finish line was a blur of coloured spots, the yellow lines leapt up to meet her and she poured everything into the wheels but the German girl had something left and was drawing away. Italy surged up and threatened her shoulder as the crowd roared and the aussies screamed. The last second she just closed her eyes and pushed. She didn’t know she won the silver until moments later when she heard her coach bellowing from the stands.