I can still smell the grass on the field. I can still feel the sweat dripping down my face, the sounds of crowds cheering and clapping. The sun illuminating the sky, the wind spinning my hair like a tornado. Citi Field never looked so alive.

“You ready, kid?” My dad asked.

“Yup!” I said.

My friend Emma, standing right next to me, smiled. Her eyes were lit up from all the excitement coming from the crowds. Her dad and brother, Aidan, stood next to her with the same mesmerized face. Beep. The race began. No going back now! Some people started out slow, others flew by without hesitation.

“This isn’t so bad,” I said after 3 minutes of running. I knew I spoke too soon.

The first obstacle came right around the corner. Stairs, stairs, and more stairs. I glanced through the opening above me. It seemed as though I’d been running on stairs for 5 hours and still 8 more flights to go.

“Almost there,” I said to myself. I couldn’t give up on the first challenge. Finally, the stairs came to an end. My body didn’t read tired, but boy did my face.

Emma, Aidan, and I waited at the top of the stairs for our dads.

“Slowpokes,” Emma said. We laughed.

After about a minute, they made it to the top and we continued the race. We made it to about the 5th level of the stadium. It seemed higher up than it actually was. By then, other racers were starting to slow down. I did my best not to start walking, even though we weren’t competing for time, necessarily. After running through the snacks and apparel areas of the stadium, we made it to our second obstacle: carrying a 20 pound sack of sand up and down the stadium seats. I grabbed a sack, threw it over my shoulder, and started running. I can still remember the burn I felt in my quads.

“Switch shoulders, it helps,” yelled my dad about half way through the obstacle.

By then I just wanted to put the sack down, but I knew that if I put it down then, I wouldn’t be able to pick it back up. I stopped for about 20 seconds to switch shoulders. I took a breath of relief and continued going up Mount Everest. My lungs still felt like they were collapsing. We finally made it to the end of the second obstacle. I let the sack down and almost fell to the ground. My legs were wobbling like jelly.

“We made it!” Emma yelled. I wanted to cheer, but my chest felt like someone just ripped out my heart. I stood up tall and Emma and I continued on. We left our dads behind and watched them get smaller and smaller the further we ran.

The next obstacle was in the stadium parking lot. Once we made it outside, the breeze rippled through my shirt. We made a quick pit stop at the water booth and continued on our way. We made it to the next challenge: carrying a 15 pound brick 15 yards, doing 10 burpees, then bringing the brick back. I tried not to start crying but my shoulders felt like they were dislocating more and more every minute. I’m half joking.

About 3 more obstacles followed that one before we got back to the stairs. But this time, they weren’t just ordinary stairs. Oh no, this time we not only had the climb the stairs, but we had to bear crawl under wire, too.

My legs began to burn again. My spine felt as if it was going to snap in half. What felt like millions and millions of people crawled by my side. I felt like a giant inside a peanut shell. No room to breathe, no room to think.

“Half-way through,” said Emma.

“That’s it?” I said to myself. I thought I’d been running this race for a year, meanwhile we’d probably only been running for about half an hour.

Obstacles came and went. My competitive drive kept me in the race, though. All me and Emma ever do is compete. About everything. I mean everything. School, sports, clothes, you name it! But our competitive spirits kept us going. The thought of crossing that finish line was exhilarating.

I’d say about 40 minutes went by until we made it to the field.

“Almost there,” I said. My breaths were heavy, and my chest felt like I ate nails for breakfast. My neck and face were drenched with sweat.

The last 6 obstacles were laid out across the outline of the field. The first was getting over an eight foot wall. Next was picking up a 15 pound ball and throwing it down to the ground 15 times. Then came the box jumps. Jumping on and off a three feet high ledge 15 times, was like taking a hammer and crushing your calves with it. Finally came the last 30 foot sprint.

In 30 feet, we will be done. In 30 feet, we will be champions. In 30 feet, we will claim victory. twenty-five feet, twenty feet, fifteen feet, ten feet, five feet! Four, three, two, one!

“We made it!” I screamed from the top of my lungs. We did it! My heart was pounding out of my chest, my legs felt like wet noodles, and my head was fuzzy.

“YASSSSSSS!” Emma sang. Victory was ours. The two men working at the end of the race placed medals around our necks. They looked like gold and shiny diamonds. I pretended I was at the Olympics winning a gold medal.

My dad and Emma’s dad finished about ten minutes after us. We waited for them at the finish line. When they made it to the finish line, we cheered and hugged. I was on top of the world!

“What a day!” My dad said looking at me. I don’t think he realized it was only 11:00am in the morning.

“It sure was!”