'And the first runner up is….' Don't you hate this phrase, especially when you know that it is you? Knowing that after all the hard work, you're still fall short. So close to the prize that you can even smell it, yet unable to grasp on to it, brushing your fingers on it as you reach out for it, yet even at full stretch, you helplessly watch as someone effortlessly reaches out and snatches it away from your very eyes.

The feeling of being second-rater is a terrible one. Trying your best to come out top, you often dream of taken one step up the podium, stepping up from the level marked '2' to the one marked '1'. Yet fate is against you, no matter how hard you try, the '2' almost seems to have your name engraved upon it, seeing that you are forever occupying that place.

Blood sweat and toil is what you have given, the hours spent on the training ground is numerous. It is the same place you see everyday, the same old flooring, the same old equipment. Each of them bearing marks on over usage, a testimony of the countless hours spent on them. You battle yourself constantly, challenging yourself to your physical limits, pushing yourself onwards even as your whole body screams in protest, tying to break the previous personal best you have set. But it is all in vain, your personal best just cannot match up to the standards of others.

Others often come up to you, give you a slap on the back and say 'Well done! You got second, how I wish I was as good at you'. You smile back at the person, thanking him for her kind words, and leaving a word of encouragement for him. However the smile on your face seems so bitter, in the corner of your eyes you see the glimpse on gold, the piece of gold you have fought so hard for, yet still unable to claim.

The sparkle of silver begins to dull before your very eyes; it is such a common metal! In fact, you have a whole closet to prove just how common it can be. Each silver piece within tells a story of its own; a story of a battle hard fought, and a story of yet another defeat. For others, what might be a closet full of glory; to you it is a testimony of your failure. While others might stand there and bask in the memory of glorious moments; you slowly close the door as the feeling of dejection threatens to overwhelm you.

Your body aches from the constant punishing that it has endured from its master. Yet this pain you feel dulls in comparison to that of the pain you feel within. There is only so much a person can take! How much do you still have to endure just to reach your goal? Not like what you aspire for is unreasonable, why is it then so unattainable?

As you lie there, you know that the spark within you has not been extinguished yet. The desire to fight still burns strong within you. There is a momentary blaze in your eyes as you slowly pick yourself up again.

The battle might have been lost, but the war still rages. It ain't over till the fat lady says so, is what you remind yourself as you pick yourself up again in the same old room, the same old flooring, with the same old equipment. You stand there, reminding yourself once again it is time to stop being second; and to start coming in second – Second To None.