You know there’s a difference between racing in a race and racing 1v1. It feels more personal in a 1v1. Yet still…boring. You either win or lose, no dramatic third place finishers, no amazing last burst…and yet you can still find something amazing.

  I let my mind wander back to the race and we burst forward or feet meeting the ground at an equal pace. “You really think you can beat me?” Sting Beetle said uncomfortably close. So I get closer to the inner rail. “You haven’t won even one! Race and you still think you can beat me!?” Sting beetle followed me to the rail getting closer so I hugged the inner rail tighter.

  “Oh come on! if you can’t win against people who are literally debuting!? Then what a smidgen of a chance do you have to beat me!” This time she didn’t get uncomfortably close no, this time she bumped into me making me crash a little into the railing. and lose my footing

  I quickly regained my balance catching up to Sting Beetle rounding the second corner at 475m. This time opting to rather be at the outside of Sting Beetle.

  “Oh? You have some stamina, I will give you that!” She said her breathing getting slightly laboured.

  The opposite was for me, my breathing was controlled waiting for the last straight to unleash it.

  We rounded the third corner at 950m. It’s strange I wasn’t getting tired or atleast not that tired...is this the power of a good night's sleep? If it is then I should be grateful.

  Looking to my left is Sting Beetle, she was gasping for air trying to even keep up with me. “How are you not tired at this pace!?” She asked, falling behind me slightly before catching up.

  “When you have raced as many times as me, you start to realise *huff* that having good breath control and stamina is vital so my former trainer ran me ragged in that department” Even if I was blessed by the sleep gods, I still get tired.

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  My breathing was getting slightly laboured when we rounded the fourth corner...but I’m still full of gas!

  I coil my muscles, dig my feet into the turf and explode in forward a catastrophe of sounds leaving Sting Beetle in the dust.

  I widened the gap between us going top speed and with her already tired...she couldn’t do anything about it. My legs flourished in this condition, finally getting to run at top speed, not tired.

  My arms were swinging, feeling the air swish around me. Is this what heaven feels like? I can finally understand now why uma’s race! It’s this exhilarating feeling of wanting to go faster, no yearning to go faster.

  I kept on going feeling the air whip around me like I was their master. I didn’t even care about Sting beetle anymore. I just wanted her to bask in my greatness and speed as I accelerate to a point I shouldn’t handle!

  There’s only 100m left…and I’m sad, sad that I can’t keep on racing, sad that this race was so short. And I’m happy, happy that I got to reach my top speed, happy that I could feel the ground shake beneath my feet as I charge forward.

  This feeling, this feeling of winning...it’s so great.

  I cross the finish line, decelerating slightly after.

  Then I plant my feet and strike the air with my right hand closed, letting it stay there...it just felt natural...and awesome.

  I look towards Special Weekend pointing a finger at her and feeling my sweat drip to the ground. I put my right hand on my hips still pointing a finger at her and locking eyes with her as she was just about to eat another pop corn.

  “Remember this race! Remember what it takes to become a winner and use it to fuel all your races to come!” Special Weekends eyes widened “You will not win every race, nor will you lose all the time. But remember in your times of greatness and sorrow, whatever you do! Remember... to have fun!” I said that last part with a grin letting it fall to a small smile.

  While in my last race I discovered my will to win, I guess in this race I remembered to have fun.