POLAND – Duncan Bishop doesn’t look back.

The Poland Regional High School senior rarely needed to peek over his shoulder during the heyday of his cross country career, when the competition’s footsteps became a more distant rustle around every corner of a five-kilometer course.

Bishop approaches every moment of his life in the same soft-spoken, self-assured manner – one, intuitive, forward motion at a time, as he steadfastly strives to reclaim what was taken from him almost two years ago.

“It’s best just not to think about it,” Bishop said.

That stubborn streak steered Bishop and three indoor track and field teammates to Poland’s outdoor oval on a Monday afternoon in December 2005. Fading daylight and the impending four months of sleet, snow and sub-freezing temperatures persuaded the boys to tough out one more fresh-air workout.

Dylan Lajoie, then a freshman, suspected something was amiss when he discovered himself gaining ground on his sophomore buddy during a routine, one-mile training run.

“When you’re catching Duncan, you know there’s something wrong, because Duncan was a really fast kid,” Lajoie said, hopscotching between present and past tense. “Then we saw him stumbling and stuff. It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Bishop collapsed from the effects of an episode similar to an aneurysm, caused by a deficiency of the blood vessels connecting to his brain.

He was rushed to St. Mary’s Regional Medical Center in Lewiston and then transferred to Tufts-New England Medical Center in Boston. Bishop was hospitalized for a month.

From a few frantic minutes when his life was in danger, Bishop now refuses to let his life be altered. He anticipates graduation and the ensuing class trip (“Hopefully it’s some place good,” he said). He weighs the burning question of where to continue his education (“Whatever school will take me,” he deadpanned with a smile).

Oh, and he runs.

“They haven’t set any limits,” Bishop said of his doctors, and you won’t catch their patient imposing any upon himself. He returned to the Poland cross country team as a junior and has finished every race of his senior campaign.

Still slightly favoring one side of his body, and perhaps a few minutes shy of what he considers a satisfactory pace, Bishop competes with a grit and passion that embody a sport low on glamour but rich with intrinsic rewards.

“It’s all from him. Entirely him. I give him all the credit in the world. This is a kid who they didn’t know if he was going to move his toes when it happened,” said Nicole Carrera, who coaches the Knights along with Sean Galipeau. “Now he’s running five (kilometers). It’s phenomenal.”

Prior to his dramatic detour, Bishop emerged as the No. 2 runner in the Poland program behind Nick Williams, now also a senior and one of the elite runners in New England.

In a recent four-team competition at the former Pineland facility in New Gloucester, Bishop crossed the tape 79th out of 84 male finishers.

“Last year we ran the same course. He came in last, and he came in last by a lot,” Galipeau said. “Coming back last week, he beat five kids. That was a big victory.”

One that received a celebration befitting a state championship.

Poland runners put more pressure on themselves than ever to top their personal best time and get to the finish line. It affords them a choice seat for an object lesson in pride and perseverance.

“It’s so motivational to see him. Every meet, you finish the race, and all of a sudden all the focus is on Duncan, getting ready to cheer him on and bring him to the finish,” Lajoie said. “Whenever you’re thinking, ‘I really don’t want to run today,’ you just look to Duncan, because he wants to run every day.”

“They’re all winners. They really are. Running a 5K is a feat in itself,” said Carrera. “If you have someone who’s really fast versus someone who’s just going out there to say ‘I did it,’ they’re both commendable.”

In addition to the lengthy rehabilitation required simply to complete his 10th-grade year, Bishop basked in a flood of attention that doesn’t exactly fit his personality.

Back at school in the spring of 2006 but not yet cleared to compete, Bishop volunteered as a coach with the Bruce M. Whittier Middle School team. He said that the hardest part of his comeback wasn’t fear, but finding the motivation to get out and run with his new limitations.

“Once you get comfortable with yourself,” said Bishop, “you can just go and not care what other people are thinking.”

If Bishop could read those minds, he wouldn’t see pity and sympathy.

Only inspiration, perhaps, and a not-so-subtle kick in everyone’s running shorts that persuades them to run – and live – for today.

“He’s a big role model for me now after seeing what he’s gone through,” Lajoie said.

“We weren’t sure how walking was going to be at first, the heck with running,” Galipeau said. “I think he inspires a lot of people.”

With eyes locked on the prize that each new day brings, as an athlete and a survivor.