eryone knew she had been walking her legs off. I was quite malicious as a child. Basically, I wanted to see her suffer.So, one week when the marshal finally called us up to the line, I pushed my way to the front, next to Sarah. I smiled at her and wished her luck, whilst picturing her crying and sobbing at the end of the race. Everyone was still for the gun. Then – BANG! As always, I got off to a flying start, and led the field by a couple of metres at the end of the first hundred. I concentrated on my breathing – in, out, in, out, slow it down… don’t panic… my legs were flying away from me, my action was tight, and I felt a sudden rush of confidence and energy. Never before had I led a Walk coming into the second lap. That day, I was in front. Coming around the bend, I spotted Sarah’s Mum, a Walk judge. I tightened my leg muscles and concentrated on my action. Bend, straighten, bend, bend, straighten, bend, breathe, breathe, breathe… I walked past Sarah’s Mum confident that my action didn’t warrant a report. I relaxed slightly and sped up a bit. I knew I had to keep my legs under control, but I also knew that out of the judge’s sight, if I relaxed slightly I could gain some more speed.Coming around the back straight once more, the muscles in my legs began to throb and ache, as if they were tearing themselves away from my leg itself. I took a long, deep breath, gritted my teeth and tried desperately to maintain this rapid speed I had created for myself. Passing by the Montmorency cheer squad, I saw my friends and Mum cheering for me, yelling out support and praise. I grinned from ear to ear and pressed on. Two laps to go.I passed by Sarah’s Mum once more and tightened my action accordingly, feeling the strain it put on my muscles. My breath was coming in short, sharp gasps now. I tried to quieten my breathing, slow it down, but the pain in my chest sen...
