Finishing Crazy

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This is the first of many chapters to come! I'll be writing more soon:) I intend to finish this novel before school starts so I'll be adding new additions often. Please comment and vote!:) Thank you!

-Rachelle

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I pedal hard down the rocky asphalt, trying to get in as much mileage as I can before it reaches 100 degrees outside. Living in an Arizona valley makes the summer almost unbearable- with the temperatures reaching upwards of 110 degrees on most days. Early in the morning, the time that I usually bike, it's only 85, but I got a late start this morning and am now stuck in a heat wave of 95.

After doing about five miles, I realize I forgot to bring water. Stupid, I think. I'll never get much farther now; I've already got a headache. I sigh and decide to take the small three-mile loop back to my house because it passes the library and I could use the cold water fountain inside of there- as well as a good book.

Once I’ve arrived, I lock my bike up and walk inside straight to where I know the water fountain will be, completley exhausted. I'm sweaty and hot, and I take a long drink to try and erase some of the heat from my body.

Normally, I'm not that tired after a bike ride, but I woke up this morning with both of my legs feeling sore and over-worked. I didn't do anything yesterday that would explain having my legs feeling like that, but I just tell myself I probably slept in some funny position and let it go.

With only about eight miles in today, I’m getting behind.

Although many people think I’m crazy for trying, I’m going to enter and finish the Ironman triathlon, one of the most difficult races in the country. In less than a day, competitors must run 26.2 miles, bike 112 miles, and swim two miles.

Though it's deserving of its name, I know I can handle it; I've done things like this before. Not racing, but setting insanley hard goals.

I used to think that I wasn't born with many capabilities. For a long time I lived thinking I was a waste of space, but I found out soon that I was mistaken. My talent is getting talents. When I see something I want to do, I figure it out; with help if I know where to find it, and without when I don't. I'm not the fastest at picking up dances, or learning a song, or catching onto a lesson in chemistry, but I work hard until I have it down just as well, if not better than everyone else. It's not easy. But I have so many naysayers that I always feel empowered to prove them wrong.

That's exactly what I want to do with the Ironman. I want to show people that their physical and mental capacity is unlimited, no matter what condition they're in now.

I've never been good at sports- I've always stuck with performing arts, but the endurance required in long-distance racing is something different. It's not about coordination, it's about raw strength and adrenaline. That's all you need, and strength and adrenaline can be built by absolutley anyone. To some, it may come easier, but it's out there for anyone who is willing to work for it.

Which I am.

 Most days I get in twenty to thirty miles, but today I slept in too late. I just can’t take the heat for that long of a distance. Lucky for me, the race is in November, when the cooler Arizona air will be perfect racing weather.

After taking a long drink, I still feel a little dizzy, so I go browse in the book section until I find two books that look good. I stack them on top of each other and turn around, jumping when I see him standing right in front of me.

"Bryan?"

"Hello," he says, laughing a little at my reaction. His green eyes look at me in a friendly way, and he runs his left hand through his blonde hair casually.

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