Better to have loved and lost?
Eduardo Pontaoe
21 Aug 2007
The people were cheering him. They tried to encourage him because what they saw was not good. Jazy Fernandez was at the end of his race. He was too far behind by his lonesome . . . struggling, fighting the demons of defeat. Ms. Ric and the bystanders were shouting at the top of their lungs, to give him boost, that extra energy thinking it might help to no avail.
The end of Jazy’s Olympic try. A foreboding feeling he was not coming back. Like those cyclists who did not make it, swept under the rug of brutal . . . intense . . . unforgiving athletic competition.
She was right, Ms. Ric, she is. Setting on a stationary bike ain’t pretty. It’s not moving though given that encouragement to do the extra minutes to sweat it out. Jazy Fernandez was in a stationary bike, immobile, his legs give up on him. Like Ms. Ric getting off her bike, peeved, and realizing . . . that stamina . . . is long gone.
It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, ain’t it, Ms. Ric?
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