It was a hot, clear day out on the Godwin Galloper Memorial Racetrack when Turtledove entered her school's track team tryouts.
She was not particularly well-built, nor did she have much experience with athletics, but it was a mark of prestige to join 'Galloper's Gallopers', as the team was styled, and Turtledove knew that in sports as in life, hard work and commitment were more important than raw talent. Her parents knew the value of hard work and commitment, and they had raised her to share their appreciation for it. She was convinced that if she only gave it her best effort, the tryouts would not be a waste of time even if she failed to make the team. After all, no one could win every race, but everyone could always give their best.
The current event, the five-furlong dash, was wrapping up. The ten-furlong run would be held next, and that was the event that interested Turtledove. As she made her way toward the place on the track where the starting line for her race would be, she watched the five-furlong runners make their last half lap. Nine sprinting runners circled the final curve; one, a tall lean colt, entered and emerged far ahead of the rest. He finished the race several lengths ahead of the straggling group, and as he turned to face a coach after crossing the finish line, Turtledove saw with a shock that he was hardly out of breath.
With a grin that looked like a grave, the coach spoke to the colt. "One-oh-three eight, Hare. Ready to run the ten now?"
The colt named Hare responded with a bit of a swagger. "What's that? Am I ready to win the ten now? You know it."
Poor Turtledove was stunned. As the coaches' assistants hustled the ten-furlong racers to their starting line, Turtledove ambled passively along, lost in wonder. What an athlete this colt named Hare was! Not thirty seconds ago he had won a sprinting race against eight other competitors, recording a time worthy of a competitor in the Equestria Games—and here he was lining up to run again!
The sun was hot, and the sensation of its heat had a hypnotic effect. As more runners lined up and the reality of the race set in on her, Turtledove reminded herself that hard work and commitment were more important than raw talent. She set her mind on the race and renewed her personal promise to finish it running, no matter what else happened.
She wondered whether the colt named Hare would win this race too.
An assistant blew a whistle, and the race began. Despite starting at a faster pace than she was comfortable with, Turtledove quickly fell to the back. Five runners passed her, then seven; before long she was running dead last. She found energy for a burst of speed once she realized there was no one left behind her, but it was quickly spent, and her pace continued to slow.
As she slowed, pain began to creep up into her legs, drawing her attention. Before the race, Turtledove had expected pain and looked forward to it as a chance to prove her mettle. After all, no great pony had ever become great without patiently enduring a lot of pain and working through it. But out here, as she watched her legs crash again and again into the hard track and felt her untested joints absorb the shock, she discovered that pain is a different thing when it is actually causing you pain than it is when you are just imagining it. It then crossed her mind that, other things being equal, she would rather not endure more pain in her life than she had to.
Setting aside the pain for a moment and looking up, she saw that she was only falling more and more behind. She was even further behind the other runners than the slowest of those runners was behind the fastest of them. It was then that Turtledove realized the humiliating position she was in.
She thought of her parents, who had advised her not to attend the day's tryouts. They had anticipated this happening, and tried to shelter her from it; well, it was too late now. There was no getting around the humiliation. The assistants with the clipboards saw her, and the coaches with the stopwatches saw her, and soon the other competitors would see her, and they would judge her for her inability, and there was no helping it.
It was even a matter of indifference whether she finished the race at all, or stopped where she was and walked straight off the track; their judgment would be the same either way.
As she entered a curve in the track, alone, Turtledove dwelled on that last thought. The idea of stopping and walking off tempted her. Walking off would at least save her the humiliation of dealing with the others; it would also spare her legs, which were aching already.
No one would care if she just left, for this wasn't a class—the school's track team was an extracurricular activity. And no one would stop her from leaving on the team's account. It was clear she wasn't going to make the cut.
As she contemplated quitting, Turtledove's gaze fell back to her legs. She stared at them as they worked, as if wondering whether they would suddenly stop.
But... they kept moving.
And they kept moving.
And, eventually, Turtledove noticed another thing: the curve in the track had straightened out. Looking up, she saw that the finish line was in sight.
At this, her heart leaped, and she effortlessly cast away the idea of quitting the race. She scolded herself for so easily forgetting her promise. Even the realization that there were no other runners left on the track did not discourage her, for she knew she would have the reward of hard work and commitment. No one could win every race, but everyone could always give their best.
Turtledove approached the finish line at the best clip she could manage. She caught sight of a group of athletes resting in the stands, and noticed that the colt named Hare was with them. It looked like they were telling jokes and having fun. Turtledove guessed from their behavior that the colt named Hare had won this race, too.
She admired him.
As she crossed the finish line, she felt a wave of happiness wash over her. It was happiness that there were many ponies in the world like him: ponies who could run races much more easily than she could, and other ponies who could easily do many other things that she was no good at. Because there were many different kinds of ponies to share the burdens of life in different ways, it meant everyone was more free to be themselves. She was very grateful for that, because it made the world a beautiful place.
Exhausted but exhilarated, Turtledove slowly made her way toward the athletes on the stands. She wanted to congratulate the colt named Hare on his impressive wins. But she never made it to the stands, because as she was catching her breath, a shout from the colt she was going to congratulate stopped her in her tracks:
"Amazing time, fatass! We'll win state for sure with you on the team."
Turtledove blanked and stood still, staring back into the glittering eyes of the gifted colt who had just said such a thing. A moment passed; then, without a word, Turtledove turned and walked straight home.
She realized, more than ever, that no one could win every race.
