✅ My Sister's Problem

109. First Event

Author's Note: Happy new year everyone! And sorry for the delayed posting; this was due for Jan 1st, and it's 16 minutes into the 2nd now. But I don't think anyone will mind a little delay. I'll try to make sure that tomorrow's stories are ready on schedule!

I waved my ticket at one of the race officials as they came around. A huge guy with a shaved head handed me a number to stick on the back of my shirt, and a tag with the same number on that I could attach to my shoes. Then they went into the big sack he was carrying, to be taken down to a trolley by the finish line where somebody would help me find them again. It wasn't the most efficient system in the world, but in the circumstances there wasn't much else they could have done. Then I was more nervous than ever, as I waited for someone to tell us it was time to go.

We were lined up in groups, standing on chalk lines on the ground. It was a little crowded, but not as much as it had been. For skating, after all, we needed to have enough space not to crash into each other as soon as we started moving. That was why I wouldn't be able to move right away when I heard someone yell "Go!". I'd had the speech already; and knew that I would be allowed to move as soon as everyone in the previous group had crossed their starting line. I was in the fifth group this year, as a benefit of registering early. And the distance between us would be balanced by awarding ties to the person with the higher number. I didn't think I was likely to be in a position where it mattered; it was just one more thing not to think about.

I didn't think about much if I was getting ready to race. When I was getting ready for a hockey match, I had to make sure my teammates were okay, and nobody needed any help or reassurances. That was the part I had to do, even if it had never come naturally to me, because I valued my friends. But in a race when it was just me against the world, there was nothing on my mind but the upcoming thrill of speed. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, impatient to get going. But the world turning into a blur around me was the closest thing to heaven I could imagine. And it wouldn't be long before–

"Is everyone ready?" an amplified voice called, with a loud buzz helping him to drown out the rest of our conversation. I guessed the audio system still had some bugs to work out, but it didn't stop us understanding. A little time passed, and then the same voice continued: "Then make sure you are on your marks. Remember, for the descent, you may not move until everyone on the line in front has crossed it. We will disqualify anyone who cannot follow the safety rules. Is there anyone who needs another explanation?" Everybody shook their heads, and mumbled variations on the theme of 'no'. And then the tension was rapidly building up. I found myself crouching low to the ground, one foot slightly turned to give me the biggest boost at the start.

"Group zero..." the announcer called again, and the last few seconds of hesitation felt like an eternity. "Go!"

There was cheering from the crowd, but I couldn't see any immediate movement. I bunched my muscles, ready to launch myself down the track like a coiled spring. And then the people in the row in front were kicking off against the ground, twitching to hurl themselves forward. And as soon as I could see the whole of the line, I reacted without taking any time to think.

The ground whirled past. I was watching the guy who had been slowest to react, three feet in front of me. He was the first to fall back as well, opening up a gap in the pack that I could dart into. The asphalt under my feet gave way to concrete. I knew the path was stamped with a stone-effect texture, but it was already turning into a blur as I crossed the line. Then we were heading to the first bend. I canoned closer to the fence and reached out for the last post. My feet went wide, my lower legs almost horizontal as I spun a hundred and eighty degrees while barely losing speed. The ground was only inches from my knee pads, and there was nothing on my mind but the speed, and the finish line coming closer.