by Rich Wallace illustrated by Tim Heitz An Imprint of Magic Wagon abdopublishing com
TABLE OF CONTENTS TABLE OF CONTENTS Slow Motion 4 Against Myself 14 Worth Celebrating 22 Challenged 33 Hard As Ever 48 On Trial 58 An Unwanted Rivalry 73 Chaos and Confusion 81 Lightning Quick 92 Final Kick 101
ONEONE S l ow Motio n Eight pairs of spikes click-click-clicked on the red rubber track Eight runners churned legs and arms rushing along the backstretch My teammate Adam was just inches ahead of me I thought he would have left me in the dust by now Not today Adam and the other eighth graders demolished me in most of the workouts But halfway through my first middle school race I was on the verge of a win I could feel it Kick hard I told myself as we rounded the turn You’ve got this Less than 200 meters to cover now In half a minute I’d be done I reached deep for more speed Blow past these guys But suddenly I had nothing left My legs were 4
turning to jelly and my arms were as heavy as cement Why was I running in slow motion Somehow I fought through the turn and onto the straightaway I looked up toward the finish line but I couldn’t see that far What I could see were the other runners pulling away The next-to-last runner was 5 meters ahead of me Adam was out of sight Finish strong Marcus yelled my friend Torry Santana Kick But I wasn’t sure if I could finish at all There would be nothing strong about it that’s for sure My shoulders were tight I could taste the chili I’d had for lunch about to come up I was wobbling from side to side and the finish line was still 50 meters away Finally I crossed it I closed my eyes and leaned over hands on my knees puffing hard Last place Torry ran up to me Great start Then he lowered his voice and grinned Horrible finish 5
