And Falling Short of the Finish
Rainbow Dash stood at the starting line, looking out into an unending expanse of blue sky. Her body was loaded like a spring, ready to bolt at any given moment. She glanced to each side and saw a dozen other fillies, all poised just as she was, ready to do all that was necessary to win. They were best of the best—A dozen well-trained young pegasi, all at peak physical condition. Through her nerves, Dash couldn’t help but smile. Here she was at the start of her first big race, entering as one of the top-ranked flyers in her age group, one step closer to the pros.
For the first time, Dash noticed the noise. There were ponies all around, cheering loudly for the race that was about to begin. Most of them stood on the cloud layer below the two lines of flags that marked the sides of the open-air track. Coaches shouted instructions and families shouted encouragements, creating a muddled clamor of indistinguishable voices. She couldn't hear the ponies cheering for her, but she knew they were there, part of the sea of constant noise that battered her eardrums.
Gradually, the drone of the spectators began to fade, all replaced by a single voice. It started giving directions Dash had long since learned by heart: stay within the boundaries, don’t move out of your lane for the first hundred lengths, and use good sportsmanship, etc. Rules were rules, but at the moment they didn’t matter. There was nothing but the race.
“Racers, take your marks.”
Tension filled the air as Dash made her final preparations, and she knew the other racers were doing the same. In the last moment of frozen silence, she had time for a single thought.
Please let me win this race
The air cracked and Rainbow Dash sprung from her perch, launching herself into the open sky. The cool air whipped through her coat as she picked up speed. Everything came into focus. There were two ponies ahead on her left, and another on that side trying to pass. She tilted her right wing up, sliding in front of the filly behind her as she entered the first turn. Another pony passed her on the inside of the turn, but the rest of the race remained behind her.
Come on Dash, get in front. You’ve got this.
She strained her wings, trying desperately to make up for lost time. Though her flight could be measured in lengths, her progress came only inches at a time. The group came out of the turn and Dash stole a quick look back. There was one filly a few of lengths back, but the rest of the race was far behind her.
Just a little more; that’s all I need.
Dash’s lungs heaved and her heart raced. She was hitting a wall, but she knew she could break it down. She redoubled her efforts, biting her lip as her muscles strained. At first, the pony in front of her seemed just as far away, but before long she was closing the gap. As she passed the pony, she saw a pained look on their face.
Dash smirked. Didn’t save enough for the back half.
With renewed confidence, she cut in front of the pony she’d just passed, soon leaving her behind as she approached the two racers in the front. She caught them easily and stayed behind for a few seconds.
Come on! They’re going so slow. I’ve got to pass them.
She banked to the right and increased her speed, coming up close on the right side of the lead pony.
Just a little bit more ....
She pushed as hard as she could, propelling herself past her opponent. As she passed, she felt something come down on her wing. A sharp pain spread through her side and she screamed. The world around her started spinning, alternating between white and blue. As she continued to spin, the white grew larger and larger until it was right in front of her. And then ...
“Rainbow, are you alright?”
The voice slowly grew in volume, prompting her to open her eyes. A familiar-looking stallion sat above her. He had a dark blue coat with an unkempt straw-colored mane, and had a concerned look in his silver eyes. He was flanked by two pegasi and a unicorn, each dressed in the same collared, teal uniform. As her vision came into focus, she saw large red crosses sewn into the sides.
“Hey, Coach Bluster.”
Something hard poked her wing, and she felt a wave of searing pain run through it. Instinctively, she struggled, moving to protect her weak side.
“It’s alright Rainbow, these ponies are here to help you. You had a crash along the back straightaway. Do you understand me?”
Dash nodded. She tried to get up of her own volition, but was quickly helped by two of the uniformed ponies. Now on her hooves, she looked back at the mangled feathers of her wing and felt a wave of nausea rising in her stomach.
“Try not to move the wing, alright?”
She turned to see one of the paramedics looking down at her with a worried expression on their face.
“I don’t even want to look at it.” Dash forced the words out, her head still whirling from the crash.
“That’s normal. Most ponies find the sight of their own injuries disturbing.”
As the medic spoke, her horn began to glow. Dash instinctively took a few steps back, wincing as her muscles spasmed painfully. The medic chuckled.
“There’s nothing to be frightened of. I’m just going to numb the wing so I can bandage it. I’m certainly not going to hurt your wing.”
Dash stared at the unicorn with distrust for a moment, but soon relented. The spell took effect within minutes. Her eyelids grew heavy and the world became suddenly blurred. She felt nothing as the mare taped up her wing. Meanwhile, Coach Bluster talked with the remaining paramedics. Dash heard bits and pieces of the conversation through her drugged state.
“There are some small fractures in her ribs … ulna and radius bones are bruised, but they aren’t much to worry about ... wing bones are fine but some of the muscles have been strained … On the bright side, she doesn’t appear to have a concussion from the landing.”
“Well, that is good news. Do you think there’s any irreparable damage?”
“No. There doesn’t appear to be any permanent damage to the wing ... you’d need to bring her to a specialist for a treatment timetable.”
Coach Bluster thanked the two pegasi paramedics, who flew off after a few words. Now finished with her work, the unicorn packed up her medical supplies. With a sigh, she started walking in the direction the other two had gone. She mumbled something incomprehensible as she went, although Dash thought she heard the phrase ‘stupid pegasi’ at least once.
“Okay, let’s get you back to the tent.” The voice of her coach same from behind her. “Does it hurt when you walk?”
Dash took a step and grimaced. The numbing spell was leaving as quickly it had come, and she already missed it.
“Not any worse than it already does.”
“Well, that’s good news. At least I won’t have to drag the stretcher all the way out here.” He chuckled briefly, but looked back at Dash and stopped.
“Sorry, just trying to be funny. Probably not what you need right now, I know.”
“It’s fine. Where’s the tent, again?”
“Just follow me; I’ll bring you there.”
Bluster walked off towards the inside of the race track, and Dash followed. She looked up and saw the markers for the course she’d been following. She frowned.
“So what happened exactly?”
Bluster turned back to her.
“Well, you were trying to pass the Hoofington and Baltimare racers, but you passed too close to the first one and clipped their wing. You fell out of the sky right away, but the pony you hit managed to keep going. She fell back to second to last, though.”
Dash’s first impulse was to ask if she’d been disqualified, but quickly realized that, with her wing in the condition it was in, she wouldn’t be racing any other events today. Unable to think of anything else to say, she followed her coach the rest of the way to the tent.
Their route was blocked by a sea of coaches, trainers, scouts, and fans, all bustling to get a glimpse of the flyers as they raced by. They paid no mind as Rainbow Dash moved silently between them, one tepid drop in an ocean of enthusiasm. Through all the screaming and jumping, the incessant throbbing of her wing kept her from forgetting why she was grounded. The pain slowly grew more intense as the adrenaline left her system, and by the time she reached the tent, it was nearly unbearable.
When they reached the tent, Bluster took a moment to inspect the rest of Dash’s injuries.
“Well, everything looks pretty good … other than the wing, of course. The medics told me you need to get the muscles massaged out at some point, but that can probably wait until we get back. Until then, take it easy, okay?”
Dash nodded, taking a seat on one of the water coolers.
“It’s not like there’s anypony else around who needs a drink, anyway.”
A silent time followed as Coach Bluster wrapped up loose ends, talking to some of the race officials who had appeared shortly after her arrival to the tent. She knew they were talking about her, but she didn’t care. She stared up at the racecourse, watching as her teammates took off from the start and crossed the finish line without incident. Some did well and some did poorly, but they all finished. Happy or not, they flew down to the congratulations or consolations of their friends and family, a privilege that was, she supposed, saved for those who passed the checkered banner.
“Hey Rainbow Dash, you feeling alright?”
Dash turned to the voice, which belonged to one her teammates. She couldn’t remember his name, but she did remember how annoying he tended to be.
“Look, if you don’t want to talk, you can just say.”
Dash blinked.
“Sorry, I guess I’m still a little bit out of it.” She slapped on a quick smile, hoping he would lose interest.
“Yeah … sure.” There was more than a hint of skepticism in his voice.
“Hello Forrest Dew, how was your race?” Coach Bluster came up from behind her.
Oh, so that’s his name.
Forrest smiled.
“It was good, I suppose. I came in third in my heat. I didn’t get to move on or anything, but I set my P.R., so it was good in that way.”
Sure, come by and tell me all about your personal record while I’m sitting here crippled. Really nice.
“Well, I’ll see you around Rainbow Dash.” The colt sent a sympathetic smile her way, but Dash ignored it.
“Yeah, sure.” She continued looking down until Forrest left, noting the detail in the cloud below her. She stomped on the billowy surface, leaving a deep hole in it.
So fragile.
“Rainbow Dash, would you mind explaining what all of that was?”
Rainbow craned her head around to see her coach, who was clearly angry about something.
“What?”
“Forrest Dew just asked you how you were and you completely blew him off!”
Rainbow sighed, turning her attention back to what was under her hooves. “I don’t know, I just didn’t want to talk, I guess.”
Though she couldn’t see him, Rainbow heard Coach Bluster’s soft hoofsteps as he circled around to where she sat. The sound of clouds being shaped came next, a light tone Dash likened to the crunch of snow underfoot. A hoof entered her vision, grabbed a chunk of cloud, and filled in the hole she’d made.
“You know, once upon a time I was your age. I know that might be hard to believe from looking at me, but I was one of the better teenage flyers coming out of Cloudsdale in my day. Now, we didn’t have this league back then, but there were still teams like this one where all the young up-and-coming flyers would strut their stuff. I got kicked out of school a few years in just like you did, and—”
“I didn’t get kicked out.” Bitterly, she looked out to the other side of the stadium, her unkempt mane obscuring her vision. Through the technicolor strands, she got an incomplete but comprehensible picture: bleachers full of cheering ponies, about a dozen seats deep and encircling the racecourse.
When did all these ponies get here?
“Well, whatever you did, you’re not there now.” Bluster chuckled. “As I was saying, I left school for greener pastures and whiter clouds. After shuffling around for a few years, a friend of mine made it onto one of the elite teams at the time, and he was able to pull me along with him. I wasn’t in a starting spot for a while, but a few years later I climbed my way to the top of the team.”
Though Rainbow was listening, she didn’t pay her coach’s words much mind. It was just another story, no different than the others he had told.
“For a while, things were great. I was at the head of an elite team of flyers, not too far from making one of the big-name teams. Then came the Hollow Shades Invitational. Some of the Wonderbolts showed up to watch the race, and their team had two spots open at the time, so the assumption was that they were there to find someone to fill them.”
Bluster paused for a while, allowing the chatter of the spectators filled the air. Dash hadn’t noticed, but it was louder than before. She looked up at the racecourse, blowing her mane out of the way to get a better view.
“I’d give anything to be up there right now.” Rainbow looked back at Coach Bluster, who stared wistfully up at the track. “I would have been on the tail end of my career right about now, maybe a few years from retirement, but at least I would’ve been flying.”
Rainbow looked back to the track, and a loud crack resonated through the stadium as the starting spell was set off. She looked back to her coach.
“So … what happened?”
Bluster raised an eyebrow. “I was beginning to wonder if you were paying any attention.”
Rainbow tried to smile, though with her wing throbbing the way it was, it looked more like a grimace.
“I was listening. I was just thinking about stuff is all.”
“Oh, do tell.”
“Well, It’s just … you’re talking about all this as if it’s a bad thing. I mean, being at the head of an elite flying team must have been great, right?”
Bluster nodded, looking back up at the track again. Dash followed his gaze, and saw that the racers were passing the halfway mark.
“I suppose it was, for a time, but that’s just the point. I came out of that race in first, with a huge lead to boot. Now, this wasn’t a straight line race like this one, mind you. There were tight turns and obstacles, and one part of the race dipped below the treetops and followed an old path through the forest. To make a long story short, I saw that the rest of the race was catching up to me. I panicked, took a turn too tight, and flew headlong into a tree trunk. I woke up in a hospital a day later with a cracked skull, and I haven’t been able to fly straight since.”
Rainbow watched as the racers come out of the back turn.
“So, is there supposed to be some lesson I’m just not getting?”
Bluser sighed.
“I know I’m not the best storyteller, but I’m just saying that you need to take things slower. You’ve got a long career ahead of you. Don’t beat yourself up over one little injury.”
“Well, at least you made it to the show.” Rainbow looked down from the track to stretch her neck, which was growing stiff. “For all I know, I’ll never get a chance to fly in the pros. At least you had the guts to make it that far.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Rainbow could see Coach Bluster shaking his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He pulled himself out of his perch and walked past her and out of the tent.
“There might just be hope for you yet, kid.”
Rainbow was puzzled by this, but she turned her attention back to the race. The lead two ponies were coming around the final straightaway. All around ponies were cheering at the tops of their lungs, screaming as the two blurs flew through the air. First one would pull ahead, then the other. Both racers strained themselves to the edge of their endurance, until one of the racers pushed just a little bit harder, coming in a nose ahead across the finish.
For a while, they lay winded on the clouds past the finish line, lacking even the energy to get up. They had pushed themselves to the brink of equine endurance and strength, an ordeal most would consider torture. Despite all of that, Rainbow could clearly see the smiles on their faces when they got up. Some were happier than others, but happiest of all was the winner. Still barely able to stand, they were soon crowded by scores of journalists, fans, and teammates, all clamoring to get a word in with the champion of the biggest race of the day.
Though Rainbow could no longer see the winner through the crowd, she could imagine how they felt: proud, exhausted, but most of all content in the feeling that they had given it their all. Smiling, she stood up, feeling a painful twinge in her wing but ignoring it. Eventually the wing would get better, and then later she would hurt it again, but all of that was worth the end result, a part of it, even.
“That’s who I want to be.”
Author's Note
This story was based loosely one of the better runners on my Cross Country running team in 2013. At the beginning of the race, he was inadvertently spiked by one of the other members of the team and had to stop running a mile into the race. When I asked him about it afterwards, he seemed pretty bitter about it, but at some point later in the day he seemed to put it behind him. I doubt any of the coaches had this conversation with him, but as someone who ended up missing the better part of two seasons with injuries, this is what I would have told him if I were in any position to.
