Running always seemed to clear my mind, even if everything rushed back the second I took those running shoes off. The only thing I could hear was my feet pounding against the ground, and the only thing I was focused on was what was directly in front of me. That was likely the only moment that my mind wasn't racing a million miles an hour. It was liberating.
It didn't matter that I was probably going to put myself to sleep with a cocktail of pills and alcohol tonight and that, even then, I'd stare at the ceiling of my bedroom wide awake, for what seemed to be an eternity. It didn't matter that the only person who I'd ever truly loved had deserted me when I needed her most. Nothing mattered, except the task at hand.
This is the realization that finally occurred on one of my nightly runs. I slowed to a brisk walk and split off from the small dirt path I'd been following on my run. Sticks and leaves crunched under the weight of my feet as I approached the edge of the hillside my path had been weaving up. I brushed a thin layer of powdered snow off a rock and plopped down onto it to take a small break.
My knees and back throbbed, so I instinctually reached into my pockets for painkillers. I pulled out a small sandwich bag and tossed the few pills it had housed right into my mouth. I couldn't go on like this for much longer, but this last week had taken its toll on me -- both emotionally and physically. Sure, I looked to be in maybe the best shape of my life, but it was a facade. The tasking match I'd had with The Masked Gentleman was the least of my worries, really. Finding out that Chelsea had finally had enough of me and that I was basically alone had a much greater affect on me. I had been prepared to give her anything she wanted, to do anything she wanted, but she dismissed me. It was hard to cope with, but it left me with only one focus: WZCW.
Rush and I were poised to make a real impact on WZCW, but I had to win my match against Justin Cooper first. Cooper was the only thing standing in between Rush and I controlling two of WZCW's championships. Our voices would have to be heard then. For once in my life, I wouldn't be an afterthought.
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There were mere minutes between me and my match against Cooper. I stood next to Leon Kensworth and fielded questions about my match.
Sam, you have a chance to become a two-time Elite X Champion tonight. Is there anything you would like to say to Justin Cooper before your match?
I took the microphone from Kensworth's hand and gave him a slight shove out of the way.
How does it feel, Justin? How do those ten pounds of gold around your waist make you feel?
A small grin crossed my face.
It's funny, I remember exactly how I felt when I won that title. It was the best feeling of my life. I was on top of the world when I won it and I was absolutely shattered when I lost it. The feelings of despair, helplessness, and disappointment I felt when I lost that belt to Steven Holmes were overwhelming. That's only because I'd actually earned that title, though. I'd fought for it for weeks and become one of the most decorated Elite X Champions in WZCW's history, something I'm sure you strive to do as well.
So, I don't want to be the bearer of bad news here -- though, I'll enjoy every second of it -- but you shouldn't get used to hanging onto that championship much longer. Your one week reign will go down in history, but only because it'll be the beginning of something much greater. Once I take that championship from you, I don't plan on giving it up until I can put the World Heavyweight Championship around my waist to replace it.
I paused to scratch my cheek, rubbing up against my short unshaven stubble.
Cooper, I am the first true test you've ever faced. You won the title because Overlast mailed it in and left the company, you just happened to be the next in line. If not for that stroke of luck, you'd be back in that circle jerk of a mayhem division. You get by on facing scrubs, but I'll expose you. You'd rather get into your whacky adventures about pancake mix than train for a match. That won't get you by against the best this company has to offer.
I've left a stream of bodies in my wake recently -- Tastic and Celeste fell to Rush and I, The Masked Gentleman was forced to tap out against me, hell, I even had a part in getting Black Dragon the hell out of here -- and I would love nothing more than to add your name to that list.
There can only be one Elite X Champion, Cooper. See you out there.
I forced the microphone into Kensworth's chest as I walked away.
Ladies and gentleman, Sam Smith.
