A True Champion

Today was the day. The big race. Sasha woke with a start early, and immediately put

her uniform. It was only 7am, but trying to sleep more now would be useless. She was excited, nervous, and restless, ready to get going.

            It was the championship race, and she had been practicing all season. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to win. She could see herself now, wearing the gold medal, waving to her friends and family from the center of the field.

            She ate a quick breakfast—enough to give her energy, but not enough to slow her down. She wanted nothing to stand in her way.

            While she waited for her mother to wake up and drive her, she started stretching.

            “Hey there, champion,” her mother said sleepily, walking out from her dark room. “Getting ready so soon?”

            “I’m not the champion yet,” Kaitlin said, shaking out her arms.

            “You’re always my champion,” her mother said, tousling her hair as she walked by.

            “Don’t say that,” Kaitlin said. “I have to win to be the champion.”

            “That’s not true honey,” her mother said from the kitchen. “There are many more ways of being a champion.”

            Kaitlin sighed. There’s only one way, she thought. And that was by winning.

            The weather was perfect for the race. Not too hot, not too cold. There was a gentle breeze that would keep Kaitlin warm as she ran.

            She jogged in place for a few steps, loosening up her legs and letting out a few nerves. Her race was next.

            As she watched the current race, her eyes were glued to the girl in first place. I have better form, Kaitlin thought. If she can win her race, I can definitely win mine.

            The girl crossed the finish line to applause from spectators near the finish line. A woman scooped her up in a hug.

            That will be me soon, Kaitlin said. She couldn’t wait to win.

            And suddenly, it was time.

Kaitlin and the other racers were lined up in their designated spots. Kaitlin eyed her competition. She had raced some of these girls before. She recognized one girl with shiny red hair who had beat her at the last race. Not this time, Kaitlin said, eyes flicking back to the track.

            One whistle. The girls crouched. Another whistle and they were off!

            Right from the start, Kaitlin took the lead. She knew she could keep going at the pace she was at for a long time. But the girl with the red hair was gaining on her, pushing her to go faster or lose her lead. But could she keep such a fast pace for the whole race?

            She would have to try.

            She swung her legs out farther and higher and began to pick up speed. But still, the girl was right there, on her heels.

            Kaitlin gasped for air and ran faster still. Winning, she knew, would be harder than she thought.

            You can do this, Kaitlin, she told herself as her chest heaved for air. You’ve got this.

            And then they were tied. Kaitlin stole a glance over at the girl with red hair—she was incredibly focused, eyes not leaving the track.

            They were moving at an incredible speed—all of the other racers were far behind them. It was between the two of them.

Kaitlin didn’t want to settle for a second.

But just as she moved faster, the girl with red hair shot forward with incredible speed. She was in the lead now, running hard and fast, and still gaining speed. Kaitlin’s legs pounded into the track, and she begged them to take her faster.

And then—the girl fell.

Kaitlin flew by her before she could register what had happened. Suddenly the track was open in front of her. She could see the finish line. Even if she kept a slow jog, she could now win the race.

But instead, she stopped.

She looked back at the red-haired girl lying on the track, who, seconds before, was sure to have beaten her.

Kaitlin went back to her.

Without a word, she extended her hand.

“What are you doing?” the girl asked. “Go, win the race.”

“No,” Kaitlin said. “You would have won if you didn’t fall.”

“But I did fall,” the girl insisted. “And I think I hurt my ankle.”

“Well,” Kaitlin said, helping her up. “Then we’ll finish together!”

Kaitlin threw her arm around the girl and acted as a crutch, half carrying her across the finish line.

The crowd was ecstatic.

“This was the championship,” the girl said as Kaitlin helped her into a chair. “Why would you give that up?”

“Well,” Kaitlin said, seeing her mom running towards her, beaming. “There’s more to being a champion than winning.”

The two girls beamed at each other as Kaitlin’s mom pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetie,” her mother said. “You’re a true champion.”

Today was the day. The big race. Sasha woke with a start early, and immediately put

her uniform. It was only 7am, but trying to sleep more now would be useless. She was excited, nervous, and restless, ready to get going.

            It was the championship race, and she had been practicing all season. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to win. She could see herself now, wearing the gold medal, waving to her friends and family from the center of the field.

            She ate a quick breakfast—enough to give her energy, but not enough to slow her down. She wanted nothing to stand in her way.

            While she waited for her mother to wake up and drive her, she started stretching.

            “Hey there, champion,” her mother said sleepily, walking out from her dark room. “Getting ready so soon?”

            “I’m not the champion yet,” Kaitlin said, shaking out her arms.

            “You’re always my champion,” her mother said, tousling her hair as she walked by.

            “Don’t say that,” Kaitlin said. “I have to win to be the champion.”

            “That’s not true honey,” her mother said from the kitchen. “There are many more ways of being a champion.”

            Kaitlin sighed. There’s only one way, she thought. And that was by winning.

            The weather was perfect for the race. Not too hot, not too cold. There was a gentle breeze that would keep Kaitlin warm as she ran.

            She jogged in place for a few steps, loosening up her legs and letting out a few nerves. Her race was next.

            As she watched the current race, her eyes were glued to the girl in first place. I have better form, Kaitlin thought. If she can win her race, I can definitely win mine.

            The girl crossed the finish line to applause from spectators near the finish line. A woman scooped her up in a hug.

            That will be me soon, Kaitlin said. She couldn’t wait to win.

            And suddenly, it was time.

Kaitlin and the other racers were lined up in their designated spots. Kaitlin eyed her competition. She had raced some of these girls before. She recognized one girl with shiny red hair who had beat her at the last race. Not this time, Kaitlin said, eyes flicking back to the track.

            One whistle. The girls crouched. Another whistle and they were off!

            Right from the start, Kaitlin took the lead. She knew she could keep going at the pace she was at for a long time. But the girl with the red hair was gaining on her, pushing her to go faster or lose her lead. But could she keep such a fast pace for the whole race?

            She would have to try.

            She swung her legs out farther and higher and began to pick up speed. But still, the girl was right there, on her heels.

            Kaitlin gasped for air and ran faster still. Winning, she knew, would be harder than she thought.

            You can do this, Kaitlin, she told herself as her chest heaved for air. You’ve got this.

            And then they were tied. Kaitlin stole a glance over at the girl with red hair—she was incredibly focused, eyes not leaving the track.

            They were moving at an incredible speed—all of the other racers were far behind them. It was between the two of them.

Kaitlin didn’t want to settle for second.

But just as she moved faster, the girl with red hair shot forward with incredible speed. She was in the lead now, running hard and fast, and still gaining speed. Kaitlin’s legs pounded into the track, and she begged them to take her faster.

And then—the girl fell.

Kaitlin flew by her before she could register what had happened. Suddenly the track was open in front of her. She could see the finish line. Even if she kept a slow jog, she could now win the race.

But instead, she stopped.

She looked back at the red haired girl lying on the track, who, seconds before, was sure to have beaten her.

Kaitlin went back to her.

Without a word, she extended her hand.

“What are you doing?” the girl asked. “Go, win the race.”

“No,” Kaitlin said. “You would have won if you didn’t fall.”

“But I did fall,” the girl insisted. “And I think I hurt my ankle.”

“Well,” Kaitlin said, helping her up. “Then we’ll finish together!”

Kaitlin threw her arm around the girl and acted as a crutch, half carrying her across the finish line.

The crowd was ecstatic.

“This was the championship,” the girl said as Kaitlin helped her into a chair. “Why would you give that up?”

“Well,” Kaitlin said, seeing her mom running towards her, beaming. “There’s more to being a champion than winning.”

The two girls beamed at each other as Kaitlin’s mom pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetie,” her mother said. “You’re a true champion.”