I’m at the starting line

Waiting to begin another cross country relay

I don’t want to be here, and my coaches couldn’t be more aware

I’ve been a ridiculous nuisance for months now

Not that it matters anymore, of course, it’s far too late

A bald man waves a flag and the race begins

Or at least I believe he does, this was seven years ago

My feet pound against the dirt and tree roots

I’m bobbing and weaving

Throttling through the woods

Behind the White Bear YMCA

I’m a seventh grader

I can taste the blood in my lungs

As I run towards the finishing line

Which, in layman’s terms of geographical concepts, equates to roughly three miles away

Surrounding me on all sides is a horde of equally stinky seventh graders

And this guy from my math class, his name is Ty

He does not like me, though I’ve tried to be friends with him

We sort of got along at first but I’ve spent over a month

Running up to him and hitting him in the balls

I’m still confused as to why people don’t want to be friends with me

When I keep hitting them in the balls

I’m nowhere near the front of the pack, but I have a secret weapon

I could not care less

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale

Don’t trip and fall on your ass

I dodge the seventh hole

On weekends, dudes play frisbee golf here

I think I’m a mile in now

When nobody is looking

I open the copy of Magnus Chase: The Sword of Summer I’ve been holding since warmups

Why can’t running be fun?

I’m an excellent multitasker

Oops, sort of elbowed that tree there

Ow, that was my funny bone!

I run past the awning where a kid once hit me in the head with a pinecone

I stumble past mile two while Magnus enters Valhalla and someone’s dad glares at me

Tomorrow morning, I fly to Seattle

But for now, I fly on my own

Not technically, but in my dreams I fly by running in place

It’s why I wake up cold and blanketless

I spot my dad on the sidelines

Why the book?

I see him ask

I give him a thumbs up

What will I do in Seattle, I wonder

Will I go to that big needle, the one in Gray’s Anatomy?

I can’t see how dad enjoys this, I’m getting bored

And Valhalla doesn’t seem very welcoming

Ah yes, I’m nearing the end now, the finish line is in sight

Ty’s there, holding his dog and flipping me off

I close the book and ramp up speed

One foot in front of the other

Breathe

I wonder, seven years from now, who will I be?

Will I weigh 150 pounds more and write a blog post about this mundane day?

Will I be riddled with anxieties yet always try to change and be better?

And when I write this, will I be watching a movie about King Kong fighting Godzilla?

I mean, probably not

Who could predict such a thing?

I draw in one last jagged breath

And hobble through the finish line over to the closest bench

My dad’s coming over for a hug

Let’s see if I can finish this chapter before he gets here