Chasing Rabbits

After three miles of chasing, it was time to finally kill the rabbit. The chase was good, but there comes a time when you need to take the rabbit, to put behind what has been in front of you. You have to kill the rabbit eventually.

 

I had been chasing the rabbit since the start, he didn’t have a clue what was in store for him or what his fate was going to be. He was just the right person at the right place for me to chase. I didn’t expect to kill this guy, but I did plan on taking down someone that day, I always do. I find the prey, I chase it, then when the time is right and I am no longer in need of their service, I simply kill the rabbit.

 

Oh, don’t feel bad for them, they aren’t harmed in the process, they don’t even realize what was happening, or what happened. They simply did what they set out to do, and I take full advantage of the situation, because I was there to do what I set out to do. Kill the rabbit.

 

Rabbits are runners you know. They can be quite fast, or quite slow. I try to choose fast ones, but not too fast. I need someone that will push me, but not pain me all the way to the end. I know what I am looking for and I know how to recognize them. I have chased the wrong rabbit before, the fast ones and the slow ones, and sometimes you have to give up the chase on one too soon because they are too fast, and sometimes, you have to kill the slow ones sooner than you expected and go hunting for another, more challenging, more formidable opponent.

 

I love chasing rabbits, it is part of the excitement, even though they don’t know what they are. Sure some of them know exactly what they are doing, but others, they are completely clueless of their purpose to me. No matter, I will chase them as long as I need to, until the boredom sets in or the chase ends. 

 

You know I am talking about running right? You know that I am talking about pacing? A rabbit is a pacer, a person, a timekeeper. And I chase that person, not for blood, even though blood has been shed from time to time during a race, but usually my own.

 

I find them as I start, the person in front of me, the person that will push me, the rabbit whom I will chase for the remainder of the race. I may need to switch my prey sometime during the race as some falter in breath or in stride. But there is always another rabbit to chase, always a person to run after.

 

Do you have a rabbit you chase? One in life, or in love? We all have rabbits we chase and sometimes that is a good thing and sometimes bad. I chase my rabbits because I am running, do you chase yours because you are climbing? Up the corporate ladder, or even the social one? Do you set your sights on the goal and chase the person you think is going to the same place? Do you kill your rabbit at the end?

 

I chase my rabbit down the road, but do you chase yours down the hall at work? Do you need a rabbit to chase in the corporate rat race, up to the top of the social food chain? In your race does anyone come out alive? 

 

I chase rabbits for fun, but I train alone. I like the sound of the wind in my thoughts and the pounding of the feet on the ground. I run alone, but look for the chase on the day of the chasing. We are all humans and need that goal, that accomplishment of winning the race, or at least beating another. But do you do that in your real life too? Do you use the others to get to the goal, only to get the medal and leave at the end? What kind of runner are you? What kind of person have you become?

 

I have been the rabbit, I have been the one being chased, as I give chase to another. I take on the role and let the chaser chase me, for as long as they want. I know this happens to me because I see it, I feel it. I don’t mind, setting the pace, I am a good rabbit, I know my role in the race, I know my pace, my time. There is only one problem with me being the rabbit though, I don’t like to be killed, I don’t like to be taken down. I know my roll to the runner behind me, but he does not know that I will fight back, that I will see the end coming and I will not be killed, I will kill. 

 

Oh, he thinks I didn’t notice him chasing me for the last few miles. He thought he was the cunning one, the hunter. He was expecting to see me keep the pace, keep the chase as it is, until he got tired of chasing at the end, and then move ahead.

 

Sometimes the thing you learn about chasing rabbits is that you can chase from the front too. Sometimes the kill you seek doesn’t lie in front of you, but behind you. The runner that follows is the runner that sometimes knows nothing about what chasing really means. He is just back there thinking that he will take me when close enough. He shouldn’t think that.

 

The chase is ending, I know how to kill this rabbit, the one in front of me and the one behind. I save enough during the hunt because the time is not as important as the kill. The numbers are not as important as the challenge. The run is not the goal in running, the overtaking of the rabbit is the goal. And I love to hunt.