Bold as Gold

I give myself a mental slap for agreeing to compete in the anchor event. If I’d known the day’s competition would all come down to the final race, I would never’ve put myself in this position. But here I am. Ready to step up to my starting mark. Ready to put it all on the line. Because losing is not an option.

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Not today.

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Today, my family needs a win and it’s up to me to give them one.

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The crowd is growing restless, their excitement fuels my nerves. The blood in my legs turns to jelly. My throat is a desert. I want to be anywhere but here. I jump on the spot a few times and shake out my arms, willing my legs to stay strong, to do their job, to get me across the finish line first.

 

You’ve got this.

 

Risking a glance to my right, I watch as the crowd favourite performs a series of unnecessary stretches before waving to her teammates, gathered together at the sidelines, ready to cheer her on.

 

‘Green team is the dream team,’ one of them starts chanting and soon the others join in. My rival bows dramatically towards the crowd before stepping onto the track. I force myself to look away.

 

You’ve got this.

 

‘Be bold like gold,’ a group dressed in an array of yellow T-shirts yells, loud enough to be heard over green team’s chanting. Two women, wearing pigtails tied with yellow ribbons, wave yellow pom poms in the air.

 

You’ve got this.

 

I look down at my faded yellow T-shirt and heavily scuffed sneakers. There’s nothing about me that screams bold. My jelly legs return. The excitement, and the noise build as the starter takes their position.

 

There’s no escaping now. I have to see this through.

 

You’ve got this.

 

Then I hear it. My reason for being here. My reason for being, period. Cutting through the noise, I hear him say the words I’ve been repeating to

myself since I stepped onto the track, only this time I hear the truth in them.

 

‘You’ve got this, Mum!’

 

My head turns and I see Ryan, leaning against his father’s legs, wearing a yellow Bluey T-shirt and waving frantically, his grin wider than the mighty Murray River. He looks full of life in this moment. I wish with all my heart that was true.

 

I lift my gaze to Ryan’s bald head and smile. Earlier today, his older sister sprayed his upper body with gold body paint. Katie said he looked like a walking Golden Globe trophy. Ryan didn’t understand the reference, but he’d laughed along with her. Katie always knew how to lighten the mood at home.

 

My view of Ryan is momentarily blocked as something metallic is placed in my hand.

 

‘On your marks,’ the starter calls.

 

I get into position.

 

‘Get set.’

 

I look across at Ryan.

 

‘Go!’

 

I glance down at the egg, balanced precariously in my spoon, and run.

 

FURIOUS THOUGHTS:

Parents of the world unite! The stakes appear sky high at first – the pep talk to herself and the deft repetition of ‘you’ve got this’ paving the way for whatever global domination surely awaits. The tribal colours of a sports day – very real if you’ve ever experienced the chants and mania – are brought to life here in authentic tones. And even when the story takes the smallest of detours to hint at Ryan and his bald head, it never dwells on it (as in life), with the action building to its climax. Ultimately, the stakes turn out to be only as high as an egg in a spoon, but you’ve read enough to know that it means so much more to this particular family.