Now I'm in a race. I line up with the little kids, age 2 on up. Then there are some women and three men. I think, "We won't count the kids as part of the competition. Just let them run for fun." I'll probably win or be close in the women's division and the guys will win the race. I feel determined. The race starts and I am out in the lead. The guys are very close behind me. I put out heroic efforts, panting, running; it's hard to do. I pull myself step by step. The curb or railing is pink and I pull on it to get me up the hill. The guys get ahead of me. I'm sweating and exhausted. I come into a room. They are seated, drinking ice water and taking a breather. I just keep on going. I hope they don't notice I'm gone until I've gotten a good lead! I struggle and struggle. Then they notice and race. I just barely cross the finish line ahead of them. The winner. I collapse from the strain and lie there panting, catching my breath.