“Ready to lose, Sam?” Rian sneered at me. I rolled my eyes.

It was that time of

the year again – the inter-school track and field championship. Rian, a runner from our
neighbouring school, has always seen me as his personal rival. He hates my guts, and
I hate his. The championship was more than just a matter of winning for me – it was a
matter of dignity. “We’ll see who loses soon enough, Rian”, I replied venomously. He
scoffed. “Get real. A good-for-nothing like you will never be able to beat me.” Before I
could retort back, an announcement sounded through the megaphone. “All competitors,
to the racing track. The 1500m race will commence shortly.” We exchanged one last angry
look before making our way to our positions.

The start of the race was tense. The stakes were high, and I had to make sure I
did not lose to Rian. He would never let me live it down if I did. I prayed that I would
perform to the best of my ability, and more importantly that my best would be better than
Rian’s. The blare of a horn interrupted me in the middle of my thoughts. Adrenalin instantly
kicked in as my body went into overdrive. I bolted at max speed, instantly outpacing
everyone. Smiling to myself, I felt my confidence surge. I had this race in the bag. All I
had to do was keep this up for the rest of the race.

As I finished my first two laps, fatigue started to set in. My feet were as heavy as
bricks, and my limbs screamed in protest every step of the way. “I messed up,” I thought
to myself. In my hubris, I sprinted at the very start of the race, not bothering to conserve
my stamina, and now I am paying the price for it. How could I have been so stupid? Before
I knew it, a familiar silhouette whizzed past me. Rian momentarily glanced behind him,
gleefully mouthing the words “slowpoke”, before focusing on the track ahead of him once
more. The distance between us grew wider, and the other racers gradually trickled ahead
of me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realised that my brashness cost me the race. The
situation seemed hopeless.

“A good-for-nothing like you will never be able to beat me,” Rian’s words rang
loudly in my head, over and over again. I found myself face to face with the prospect of
him having an entire year to gloat about his victory over me. I clenched my teeth. I could
not give up. That was an outcome I simply could not allow to become reality. Despair
turned into determination as I mustered all the strength I had left to close the gap. Slowly,
but surely, I started to gain ground. The perplexed runners stared at me as I gradually
overtook them, one by one. It was the last lap. Rian was still a distance ahead of me, and
I did not have much time left to catch up. With a shout, I pushed myself even harder,
forcing my legs to go even faster. In that moment, my mind was fixated on one thing and
one thing only – to overtake Rian.
 In the last leg of the race, Rian and I found ourselves running shoulder to shoulder.
Surprised at my comeback, Rian tried to block my way. However, I could tell he was
fatigued. With just a short run left to the finish line, I knew I had won before I even crossed
it. With one last burst of desperate speed, I finally overtook Rian, crossing the finish line
and barely clinching first place. As I slowed down to a halt, my vision became blurry and
I found it difficult to stand. In the heat of the moment, I did not realise I had pushed my
body so hard. I lay down at the spectator benches, trying to cool off.

“Hey, you feel alright?” a voice woke me from my stupor. I refocused my eyes to
see who the speaker was. To my surprise, it was Rian, offering me a bottle of carbonated
water and a helping hand. I skeptically grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull me back up
on my feet. Noticing my apprehension, he let out a sheepish laugh. “Listen, I’m sorry
about the awful things I’ve said all this time. I was wrong about you. I thought you were
lazy and just in the team for a nice report card,” he stuttered. “Your performance today
made me realise that I was the idiot here. It was wrong of me to taunt you, and I hope
you’ll forgive me.” I sized him up in suspicion. Was this a prank? No, he was acting much
too awkwardly for this to be anything other than genuine. I reflected back to our many
toxic exchanges. If I were to be completely honest with myself, I was not completely
innocent either. I had said some extremely hurtful things to him, and while my refusal to
give up on beating Rian did help me win this race, there was no reason why our rivalry
had to be this malicious. “I’m sorry for what I’ve said in the past, too,” I conceded. “You’re
a pretty good runner yourself. How about we grab some lunch? I don’t know about you,
but I’m famished.” Grinning at my reciprocation, he eagerly agreed.

Ever since that day when Rian offered me the olive branch, we have gotten along
surprisingly well. Rian and I had many things in common, including a shared interest in
fitness and an extremely competitive spirit. What used to be a toxic rivalry turned into a
mutually beneficial friendship, sharing tips on how to do better and setting a benchmark
for each other to become the best runners we could possibly be. Looking back on our
past hostilities, I realised that both of us were childish for letting our competitive spirit
overwhelm us. Some may say that, in order to foster the spirit of perseverance, one must
have a bitter, infuriating rivalry with someone who makes you desperate to win. My
newfound friendship with Rian showed me that this was not the case. I found that it was
possible to find motivation with a friend supporting you rather than an enemy mocking
you. Ever since this fateful race, I grew stronger, not just as a racer, but as a person.