The last time I was lying here on this track was January. Now, it’s August. Obviously, January was a long time ago. But January was also the last time I ever ran. I haven’t been able to run for the past few months. Didn’t want to. Couldn’t run anyway. But today, now that my leg is better, I decided to take a stab at it and run.

It was glorious.

I’ve always loved to run. Ever since I was little, running was how I dealt with everything- pain, joy, depression, jealousy. And I don’t just enjoy running; I’m actually good at it. I have really good endurance and I can go really fast when I want to. I came in first in five races at the last regional competition I was in. There was even talk of going to the Olympics from my coach. But that idea has gone. Because of what happened in January. Which really sucks because it’s always been my dream to go to the Olympics. It would be an amazing feeling to run with the greatest athletes in the world. I don’t think I’d even care about winning a medal. Running isn’t a competition to me; it’s a pastime. I do it for fun.

But now my chances of ever running with champions, people with as much fame as Jesse Owens or Mary Lou Retton or Michael Phelps, are ruined. My dream will never come true.