Week 27: The race

Regionals
By Lucy Skinner
Richmond Middle School, Grade 7

The red, oval, racing track simmered in the summer heat. I stared at it through the fence. It glared at me as if daring me to come any closer. I stumbled forward in a trance. My foot reached the track, and I stopped. I knew that when I took this step there was no turning back. My foot fell, seeming to take forever before it hit the rough, red track. Then my foot kind of sat there, as if laughing at me in my nervous state. My glazed eyes stared in front of me at the start line.
I felt a gentle hand pat me on the back. It was Eva. Her crisp, happy voice shook me from my trance.
“Where have you been? We’re up next!” she said.
Eva was in the grade above me, seventh. The year before, she dominated regionals, taking home first place in the girls 11- and 12-year-old 800-meter run. She advanced to states and came in for an incredible third place!
This year, she was running the 13- and 14-year old 800-meter run. I was in the same race because my birthday was a few days before the cutoff; but I was only 12. I was running against some 14-year-olds with incredibly fast times. They were muscular, thin girls who were at least a head above me. I had no chance; Eva did, maybe, but me, no. This was the first time I had ever run the 800. I knew I had no chance.
We stepped up to the line. In about three minutes, I would cross this line again, pushing myself to the limit. The white-haired man explained the rules. He was so calm; I just wanted to tear him apart! How could he be so calm when I was getting eaten alive by huge butterflies in my stomach! He turned and began walking away. He turned again, arm high, starter gun in his hand. He fired.
My muscles started moving. Arms pumping, I began to run. This was the feeling I loved: everything working together to make me move. I began to fly, passing people until I found a good spot to settle in – fifth from the front. There was a girl in front of me, then Eva and the two leaders were far ahead. Arms punching through the air, legs pounding the track, adrenaline pushing through every part of my body, this was the feeling I yearned for.
I approached a tall slim, 14-year-old girl in front of me. By focusing on her legs I could keep up with her. I saw in every one of her strides, her muscles bulge out, pushing her tall muscular body forward. I was pushing harder, getting my foot ahead of hers. My legs pulled in front, and I began cruising, as she sank back in my footsteps.
We began on our second lap. I was in fourth place with Eva ahead of me. My legs were screaming. Each breath rattled in my lungs. I focused on my form, so I wouldn’t think of the pain. Pump arms, body still, long strides.
Ahead of me I noticed Eva, the one person between me and the state meet next week. I knew how badly she wanted it, just like I did. Suddenly I forgot about her. All I saw was the finish line; I began to sprint.
I have heard the speech from my coach many times, about how running comes from the heart, how you have to push yourself past the limit to cross that line. That’s what I did. Every part of my body wanted this like there was nothing else in the world. The cheering from the crowd disappeared, and I focused on my pumping arms, pushing myself to the finish line.
Eva must have heard my pounding from behind her because she looked back, one of the biggest mistakes a runner can make. Her stride weakened. She tried to push by me, but I was determined. The finish line was 50 meters away. I felt like I was going to explode, but I would not listen to my crying muscles. I crossed the line, and collapsed, lungs making my whole chest expand. Everything was fuzzy for a moment, and then I realized, I was the third girl to cross the line.
The beating from my heart got faster, my hands began to shake. This is what I pushed for, what I had used every ounce of strength to do. I had succeeded. My moment of triumph. A hand reached down to me. Eva’s breath was barely making it out of her body. I took the hand and immediately pulled her close to me.
When we finally came out of our embrace, her breathless, reassuring voice came out: “I had my chance last year, now it’s your turn.”
I gave her a wide smile. This would be my chance. I would do it for Eva.