Fox Running on Empty

The cross country team from North Valley High—the Foxes—always destroyed us. Every meet, every season, their orange jerseys blazed past like they were running on something way more potent than just teenage determination.

"You okay, Maya?" Coach Miller asked as I doubled over, gasping for air after another humiliating practice. "You've been off your game lately."

"Yeah, just tired," I lied, straightening up. The truth? I'd been mainlining vitamin supplements like they were going out of style, trying everything to keep up with Lila Chen—the Foxes' star runner who somehow made state qualifying look like a casual jog.

My locker was basically a pharmacy now. Vitamin D, B12, some weird green powder my mom swore by. And don't even get me started on the spinach smoothies I'd been forcing down every morning because apparently that's what real athletes ate. Spoiler: they tasted like wet lawn clippings.

"Earth to Maya?" My best friend Jess waved a hand in my face. "Lila just posted her time for regionals. She crushed it. Again."

I stared at my phone, feeling that familiar knot in my stomach. Lila, this perfect fox-girl with her effortless talent and her probably-perfect life. Meanwhile, I was over here popping supplements like they were candy and still finishing dead last.

"Maybe I should just quit," I muttered, slamming my locker shut.

"No way," Jess said. "You know what you need? You need to stop trying to be Lila and start running like Maya. Whatever that means."

The next morning, I dumped the vitamin bottles. I skipped the spinach smoothie. I laced up my running shoes and headed to the trails, not because I needed to beat Lila, but because I actually liked running. The wind in my face, the rhythm of my breathing, the way everything else just... fell away.

That day at practice, Coach Miller did a double-take at my times. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it."

"I'm finally running for myself," I said, grinning. "Not trying to bear the weight of everyone else's expectations anymore."

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic. But for the first time in forever, I felt like I could actually breathe. And yeah, maybe I'd still get smoked by the Foxes at regionals. But at least I'd be running my own race.