Epic Battle of Glory

In the history of mankind, there have been many battles for glory, honor, and the true spirit of a man. June 6, 1944, the 1st Infantry Division and 29th Infantry Division storm Omaha Beach. 480 BC, King Leonidas of Sparta and his small fighting force holds back the overwhelming Persian army. Fictionally, the Battle for Helm's Deep in The Lord of the Rings and the attack by the rebel forces against the Imperial Death Star in Star Wars.

Mine is such a story.

Is there anything more glorious than a track meet? Sweaty kids with headbands, prepping themselves for what maybe the biggest thing to happen in their lives yet.

It won't be.

Anyhow, my school had an open track meet. Basically, anyone can participate in it. So I figured, why not. I'm not bad at running. The guy signing kids up was some kind of a beast. Had to be 6'5" and at least 230 lbs. And then the coldest words I've heard: "Sorry, all highschool boys positions are filled."

My heart was rent, to say the least.

"Please, sir," I said, quivering my lower lip. "Is not there something you can do? Is there not another category I can be put in?"

"Well," he said, shoving his sunglasses to his forehead with a meaty thumb, "there is an opening in the middle school girls race, but--"

"Great! I''ll take it!" I shouted, running to grab my shorts. In our day of inclusion and rights, wonderful things can happen.

Three days later, the meet had begun. The middle school girls were called. I stepped forward. Sweat dripped from my brow, and I raised the true arm of a man to wipe it. The girls shifted nervously, eying me. I turned to them. "Yes, girls," my voice a low whisper, filled with the emotion of a man who knows he will either win or die this very day. "We fight for death. Death, and a red dawn."

I turned back to my position, gazing intently at the pink finishing line fluttering in the gentle breeze. I could tell they were impressed.

That day, I won.