The Big Race

The crowd went wild as I took off from the starting line in The Big Race. Through the cheering I heard Mom shouting “Run, Sammy, Run!”  I knew without looking that she was smiling from ear to ear and clapping her hands for me. She was probably jumping up and down also.

I kept my eyes straight ahead running as fast as I could.  I quickly passed my best friend Tyrannosaurus Rex because, let’s face it, he wasn’t the fastest runner in the toy box. We trained together in the park, and I got a little bit faster every day, but he stayed about the same. That’s ok, I had reminded my loyal friend, he had many other good qualities being so big and ferocious. Speed just wasn’t his thing.

“Run, run, run,” I chanted to myself in my mind as I passed my friend Justin. I saw Justin’s red face out of the corner of my eye and wondered if my own face was that red too?

“Run, run, run.” I was on fire, passing Sarah, leaving her in my dust.

The coach was waiting for me at the finish line, holding the medal for the fastest runner in kindergarten.  I would wear that blue and white ribbon around my neck when we go out for ice cream to celebrate and then hang it in my room. Last night I took the collection of caps off the hook on my wall leaving it ready for my shiny new medal. I couldn’t wait to see it every day when I woke up.

Dad was there in the crowd also and would pick me up and put me on his shoulders to carry around. “My son,” he would tell the other fathers. “My son won the race.”  We would pose for pictures together to put under the refrigerator magnets and mail to Grandma and Grandpa.

Catching up to the galloping horse, I heard the clop, clop, clop of the hooves as I turned the corner of the lap.  I knew if I got tired I could jump on my friend’s strong back in one smooth move and we would go for the win together.   

“Just in case,” Mom had winked at me when handing me my backpack with Midnight tucked inside. It did make me less nervous about The Big Race knowing that my friend would be there too.

“Run, run, run." I was almost around the entire track heading back to the point where we had started. The blue and white flags were blowing in the wind celebrating our school spirit. 

When I told Mom there was a ghost in the school, she gave me one of those looks. “What makes you say that, Sammy?” She had asked while putting down my bowl of macaroni and cheese that night.

“Everyone talks about our school spirit. No one seems scared so I guess it’s a friendly ghost, you know, like Casper.” I had explained carefully through my chewing, not understanding why Mom laughed so hard. Maybe I had gotten it wrong, and Casper was the funny ghost, not the friendly ghost. 

It was the last stretch of the race and time to pull out all the stops, as Dad always said. I had paced myself saving some energy for the last bit and called my friend Sunshine to join me. Tattered and worn but still the fastest of them all, she appeared with all four paws in midair at the same time. Was she actually flying? 

I, too, flew like the wind, my feet hardly touching the blacktop. “Wait for me, Sunshine!” A funny name for a cheetah everyone said, but she was named after my calico. Sunshine was a fast cat too, especially after rolling around the floor in her catnip. She really got the zoom zoomies then!

I was going to win! Faster than Justin, faster than Sarah, I came up behind Mikey and put the extra oomph into my legs to pass him by. The winner, Sammy! Fastest in all of kindergarten. All that running in the park was worth it, even when I was grumpy and sore and wanted to lay on the couch watching cartoons. 

“There’ll be plenty of time for TV after The Big Race, champ,” Dad reminded me every time we put on our matching t-shirts to run another lap at the park.

“It’s almost ice cream time,” I called out to the love-worn cheetah racing effortlessly to the finish line. Although cats don’t eat ice cream, I still put a little in her bowl when no one was looking.

Just as I heard the roar of the crowd welcoming me to the finish line, I saw a blur out of the corner of my eye. What? Mom said not to look around and to keep my eye on the prize, but I had to see. There was Justin with his tomato cheeks running as fast as humanly possible, huffing and puffing like he was going to blow the house down. And then he was in front of me. I was behind tomato face Justin. 

“Help, guys! I need you now!” I called on Sunshine’s incredible speed, Midnight’s galloping strength, and even Rex, who was slow and steady, to win the race. My legs pumped up and down faster and faster getting closer and closer to the coach holding my shiny gold medal. I crossed the finish line. 

The voice over the loudspeaker boomed, “Congratulations to the winner, Justin!”

Congratulations to Justin?

Congratulations to Justin.

I watched the confetti fall as he held up his arms for the crowd, showing that he was the winner. The star. The fastest runner in all of kindergarten. The coach placed the blue and white ribbon round Justin’s neck. The shiny medal was his.

I did not win. 

I was not the fastest runner. 

I lost.

I looked down at the blacktop and heard buzzing in my ears. My heart pounded so hard I thought it was exploding. My legs felt like the jelly that goes with my peanut butter, all soft and gooey.

I lost The Big Race.

Mom and Dad came bursting through the crowd. I looked down at their feet. Mom’s toenails were painted blue and white for school spirit.  Dad wore his brown loafers for when he worked out in the field. I couldn’t look up. I didn’t want to see their sad faces. Were they crying in disappointment? I fought back my own tears.

Suddenly scooped up and riding on Dad’s shoulders, I was shocked. What was happening? Mom was smiling ear to ear and clapping her hands. Dad passed around his camera asking for photos to send to Grandma and Grandpa.

“But…” I stammered. Maybe they didn’t see it clearly? Did they forget to put their glasses on? 

“But what, Sammy?” 

“I lost the race.” I blurted out in a shaky voice, my tummy doing somersaults.

“Sammy, you did great. We’re so proud of you!” 

***

Later that night after I ate all my ice cream with sprinkles, I got cozy in my bed. I looked at the empty hook on my wall where my award was supposed to hang. The tears I had held in at the finish line poured out onto my pillow. 

“It’s not fair!”  I was mad, super mad.

The memory of Justin’s face as he passed me by came back to me. His face was red like a tomato, his breathing was heavy like the wolf in The Three Little Pigs. He did win fair and square, I had to admit. 

I looked at Rex, Midnight and Sunshine all tucked in next to me. “We’ll get ‘em next time, won’t we, guys?”