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Topic: Arches - Chaser - Search (07/03/25)
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TITLE: There Was More | Previous Challenge Entry
By Margo McKenzie
07/09/25 -
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By the fourth run, he was winded, but he tried once more and checked his watch: “Yes!!!”
After showering and preparing for class, he ate the eggs his mother prepared, saw her handwritten note on the table, and reached over it for the salt. Another verse telling me to remember running is good, but running with God is best, thought Wayne. He had collected hundreds of his mother’s verses over the years. After he makes the Olympic team, he planned to pay for his own place to get away from her.
On the morning of the tryouts, he saw that his mother added three pancakes next to his usual eggs. No handwritten Bible verse that day. She must have been running late, he thought. As he ate, he imagined himself passing the finish line among the top three runners. Just as he put his plate in the sink, his phone rang. It was his mother. He clicked a response: Can I call you later? He didn’t want to hear her talk about the Lord.
On the track, at the try-outs, he remembered his early morning practices. He was ready. He told himself that no matter what other runners did, he had to run his race.
“Runners, on your marks,” said the starter.
With his heart pounding, Wayne settled his feet into the starting blocks.
The gun blasted.
He kept up with the crowd for the first lap, but he needed to do more. He managed to edge past lane two’s runner, who practically rubbed shoulders with him. But the feet and heads ahead disturbed Wayne. He took in as much breath as he was able, pushed his arms harder, and kicked as quickly as he could. He approached the last turn. All he wanted to see was a ribbon pulled across the track, feel the fiber drape across his chest, and hit his leg as it fell, but three bobbing heads in front impeded his plan. I have to catch up, he thought, but the track was running out as fast as they moved. Could he catch one?
He could not.
He pushed himself across the finish line anyway, and the weight of disappointment squeezed out the little air in his lungs and motivation in his spirit. His body lay limp as the feet of the last three runners crossed the line after him.
He lay there thinking that he had done all that Coach Brown had asked, but it wasn’t enough. Should he try again next year? Three hundred sixty-five days ahead were just too much to fathom when he had come so close that day. How could he muster up the energy? What more could his coach say to help him? Where was he anyway? No one stopped by his limp body to help him to his feet, and he didn’t want to rise alone.
How dare I pray now? he thought. Maybe Mom was right after all, he conceded. There is a more important race.
“Wayne, get up, son.”
He didn’t know she’d be at the try-outs. He felt lighter as he rose to his feet, but his mother was nowhere around. At the same time, he heard the announcer. The second-place winner had been disqualified. “Lane violation.” Everyone in the stands clapped and roared as Wayne walked the track to his locker. He stopped and gazed at the crowd, with tears in his eyes. They clapped as though he had won. The scoreboard displayed: Third Place, Wayne Carter.
His spirit soared. He pointed upward--for himself and the crowd. There was more to this win. He couldn’t wait to tell his mom that she had won, too.
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