The 800m Sprint

• Jaedon Mccrum, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2019

I’m freezing cold. Goosebumps all over me. sweaty kids on either side of me, lining up for the gun bang. Can we just get it over and done with, right now? And Just like that, like he was reading my mind, the marshaller says three words that put me in action. “Take your marks!” I’m ready. Long pause… BANG! And I’m off. I’m desperately trying to get a good head start, but the guy to the left of me straight away extends his foot to the right and I trip over. I look up. He’s just up ahead of me, smirking away and sprinting off. Thankfully, the ground is a little spongy, so I didn’t hurt myself too badly. I quickly sprang up to my feet, slowly returning to the other people in front of me. A boy shortly up ahead turned his head back, looking into my eyes, before jogging off. I’m only 12, but I am not the fastest kid in my category. Why do I have to be so slow? I’m turning around a short bend and look ahead of me. By the looks of it, some people are already halfway done, while I am only a quarter way through. I look behind me. Ugh! I hate it when I’m last. Over the railing on the other side of the track, some younger kids are screaming at me, saying “MERGE TO THE LEFT!” I look down at the lines on the track. Ugh. I just can’t stand younger kids telling ME off. I look up. I see a banner, and I hear some coach saying, “halfway through, keep going!” halfway through? It feels like I just ran 2 kilometres! I can’t take it anymore. It’s like my lungs have died, so I start walking, thinking what a failure I am. All of a sudden, my right sneaker feels awfully loose. I look down. Oh no… “of all the times, why know?!” I yell. I start to kneel over when I hear laughing from either side of me. “HAHAHAHA!” my cheeks start to burn up. I slowly rise up to my feet and slow jog. What now? Someone trips me over, I come last, kids telling me off and my shoelace comes undone! What else is there in store today? “WE HAVE A WINNER!!!” I look to the left of me, on the other side of the big oval. Ok. I’m really steamed. I want to quit. The marshaller is holding up a kid’s hand, with the judge giving him a shining gold medal… and he was the guy who tripped me over! Still looking over the track, I see another guy stream past the finish line. Then another, and another, and another until all the kids have passed the finish line… all waiting for me to cross the line. Not too far away now. “DISQUALIFIED!” I look at the marshaller. ARGH!!! What a great 800m sprint that was! Not to mention all the activities ahead of me….