Before seven o’clock one Saturday morning, a large crowd had already gathered at the stadium. David sat at the starting line, his gloved hands holding his wheelchair. With his heart beating, the boy wondered if he would be able to complete the race. His classmates were all there to support him. From a distance, he could see them holding up big banners (横幅) which screamed: WE ARE WITH YOU! ALL THE WAY, DAVID! Heartened, he smiled and waved back. He was not going to let them down.

Born with a severe condition that left him paralysed (瘫痪) from the waist down. At six, he underwent several surgeries to improve his condition. As a result, he was able to attend school and even took up sports to help strengthen his bones and muscles. Then, he fell in love with wheelchair racing. Unfortunately, he did not have a lot of coordination (协调) or strength but he had a will to keep going. Once, without warning, his condition took a turn for the worse and it almost destroyed his pursuit of his passion.

One day, David’s teachers encouraged him to compete alongside his non-wheelchair schoolmates. Unsure and yet grateful for the opportunity, he thought he should give it a shot. By the time the race was about to begin, the sun had risen. David was glad that he was well prepared. Adjusting the cap on his head and his gloves, David was all ready to protect himself from the heat and the strong strokes to his wheelchair. David’s eyes followed the starter who was waving a red flag. As soon as the gun was fired, David was off. The entire stadium erupted into thunderous cheers.

David pushed forward with all his strength, his hands holding the wheels the whole time for the long-distance race. His wheelchair rolled steadily out of the stadium, passing the shop houses. Despite doing everything he could to keep up with the other competitors, David fell behind.

Overhead, the sun continued to burn in the cloudless sky.

He was determined to overcome every single challenge.

It was the first swim meet of the year for our newly formed middle-school swimming team. The atmosphere during the three-hour bus journey was filled with anticipation as the group of forty-eight young teenagers thought of nothing but victory. However, the excitement turned into shock as our kids got off the bus and stared in disbelief at their muscle-filled Greek-god-like opponents.

The coach checked the schedule “Surely there has been a mistake,” he thought. But the schedule only confirmed that this was the right location and time.

The two teams formed a line on the side of the pool. Whistles blew, races were started and races were lost. Haifway through the meet, coach Huey realized that there were no participants for one of the events.

“Okay kids, who want to swim the five-hundred-yard freestyle?” the coach asked. Several bands shot up, including Justin’s “I’ll race, coach!” he shouted. The coach looked down at the youngest boy and said, “Justin, this race covers twenty lengths of the pool. I’ve only seen you swum eight”.

“I can do it. Coach. Let me try,” Justin insisted . Coach Huey hesitantly agreed. ”After all, “be thought,” it’s not the winning but the effort and determination that build character.“

The whistle blew and the opponents rushed through the water and finished the race in just six minutes and fifty seconds. The winners gathered on the sidelines to socialize while our group struggled to finish. After three more minutes. the last exhausted (筋疲力尽的) members of our team came out from the water-except for Justin.

Justin was stealing breaths as his hands slapped against the water, pushing i: aside to push his thin body forward. It appeared that he might go under at any minute, yet something seemed to keep pushing him forward.

“Why doesn’t the coach intervene?” the parents whispered among themselves. “It looks like he’s about to drown, and the race was over four minutes ago.”

Approaching Justin, the coach noticed the determination in the young swimmer’s eyes.

Touched by the scene, members of the opposing team also cheered Justin as he continued to swim.

As a journalist, I have had the chance to meet some remarkable people in different fields, but no one has impressed me more than Austin Riley.

Austin Riley is a race car driver. He has been attracting crowds to the race track for years. But his claim to fame isn’t just being fast on the speedway. He is overcoming difficulties on the track for those with disabilities. Riley has autism (自闭症). Simple tasks like tying his shoes are extremely complicated for him, but when put in a race car—a complex, delicate piece of machine —he will take you by surprise.

I first met Riley and his father Jason in 2014, in Uxbridge, Ontario, at the local go-cart track. I still remember how excited Riley was to have me and my cameraman there filming his every move. He was a go-cart racer then. He could barely talk to me, let alone look at me. No matter how quiet and shy he was, I knew this kid was going to be something big.

The go-cart track is where Riley’s racing career began. His dad, Jason, just wanted to give him something to focus his energy on. Riley has always loved cars. He has been crazy about them since he was a very young child. He also loves speed. The minute he hit the gas, his mind began to move fast and everything felt in sync(同步).

Riley’s journey on the track soon took him from fast go-carts to really fast cars. He became the first person with autism in Canada to get his race car licence. It opened up the track for Riley to drive in the big leagues — the Radical Motorsports circuit. Riley is now racing across North America, putting him on the podium(领奖台) almost every time.

However, behind every success for Riley and his family is a story of hardship.

Riley has also made a difference off the track.

The basketball court was filled with eager students and cheerleaders were waving their pompoms at the stands. Excited cheers could be heard from all sides of the court. My teammates and I got fully prepared for our basketball competition. Our hearts were pounding in expectation of the competition ahead.

“And let’s all welcome the Blue Team!” the emcee (主持人) announced through the microphone. All of us marched in proudly as everyone cheered at the top of their lungs. “And welcome the Red Team!” the emcee announced, and the Red Team came in. We were astonished to see that the Red Team was filled with tall and strong members! We were trembling with fear as we walked slowly towards the centre of the court. As we were short of teammates, our confidence in winning wavered (减弱).

The judge threw the ball and the other team quickly caught it! The ball danced between their hands. Our defence seemed to be in slow motion compared to the Red Team’s swiftness. Soon, the other team scored!

We were losing the match as time passed. To make matters worse, our star player, Tom, even tripped and fell, hurting his ankle! We were losing hope as our best player was gone. Just then, our captain called for a time-out. On the bench, our captain announced that this would be his last match. “Come on! Don’t give up! I want to win one last trophy (奖杯) before I quit. Let’s do it!” he insisted, giving us a wide smile. Hearing this, our team held our fists tightly. We were focused on winning this match and making our captain proud! The judge threw the ball once more. I jumped as high as I could and caught the ball. I ran as fast as lightning and scored. Our opponents were nervous but they still scored a few goals to catch up. A few minutes later, we were neck to neck, locked in a tie.

Whoever scored this one goal would win the competition!

The crowd erupted into deafening applause.

“I challenge you to a hundred-meter race,” my opponent, Julius, declared. He had beaten me countless times during practice, but I wanted to prove him wrong for a change. “That’ll wipe the smile off his face!” I thought, even as fear started to pool in my stomach. He was well-known around the school for being the fastest runner on the track-and-field team, while I tailed behind in second place- a respectable position, but not yet good enough to surpass(超过)him. Nevertheless, I shook his hand and said, “Challenge accepted!” However, negative thoughts flooded my mind. Would I be able to win? After all, Julius’ speed of light would guarantee a sure win!

Soon, all my friends and the teachers had gathered around to watch the challenge. “Oh no, I will lose and be embarrassed in front of the whole school!” I spoke in a low voice. Nevertheless, I turned my worried expression into a determined smile. To keep myself from sinking into self-doubt, I did some stretches and jumping jacks to warm up my body.

Finally, the crucial moment arrived. The referee(裁判)fired the starting gun and we took off like a shot. Adrenaline(肾上腺素) rocketed through my body as I launched myself forward. True to my expectations, Julius caught up with me easily and was in the lead! “No way will I lose! Victory, here I come!” I motivated myself as anger coursed through my body. As the race progressed, my eyes locked onto Julius, his athletic form effortlessly moving ahead. His quick steps and strong focus showcased his impressive skills. Yet, I refused to let doubt consume me. A fierce fire burnt within, fueled by a mix of unwillingness to admit defeat and anger. How dare he assume he was unbeatable? With every step, my determination solidified(变坚定), and my resolve to surpass him strengthened.

“Faster!” I screamed and in that instant, I felt like Superman.

“Yi Rou! Yi Rou! Yi Rou!” The whole school was cheering my name!

Running has always been a big part of my life. It was an easy and cheap way to stay healthy when I was a teenager and at university. As I got older, I kept running though I took on the responsibilities of being a mom, having a job and other hobbies. Running was a fun activity that I could do quickly and then get back to my busy day.

When I moved to a new city, I was excited about trying new foods, visiting new places, meeting new people and having new experiences. But, I also felt lonely and really wanted to make new friends. I joined a book club and a dinner group. But after a few months, I still felt like I hadn’t made any close friends.

One day, someone asked me if I wanted to run in a half marathon. Without thinking, I said, “Sure, count me in!” A half marathon is 13.1 miles, which is a lot longer than the three miles I usually ran. I was a bit scared, but also excited.

After the shock wore off, I started to learn everything about running a half marathon. I even bought my first pair of really good running shoes. They were the most expensive shoes I’d ever owned. I was ready to start training with them.

My new running friends picked me up at my house, and we started to jog together. I took it slow at first, running one mile, then two. They taught me how to run properly and how to drink enough water. I learned new words like chafing, carb loading, strides, and electrolytes. I slowly built up to running three, four and five miles. Running seven miles straight felt like climbing a really high mountain, and I started to love the feeling I got after a long run.

The day of the race finally came.

All the training I had done was now paying off.

Jumping Over Boundaries

When I was in elementary school, we had an annual sports day. Girls could do many things like hopscotch, jump rope, tetherball, and dodgeball, except high jumping. Only boys could do high jumping.

That’s what I wanted to do — high jumping. So I went to the coach.

“Girls don’t do high jumping,” the coach said. “Girls have all these other things they can do.” He excitedly described how much fun it would be.

I’d been high jumping in the backyard with my five brothers for years. Although I am a girl, I did high jumping pretty well. My brothers could rarely beat me. Whenever my back crossed the bar, that feeling is extremely wonderful. I went home and told my mother what the coach had said. My mother, a small, thin woman only four feet eleven inches tall, said, “I think we should go visit him.”

“Visit who?” I asked confusedly.

“The headmaster.”

“Visit the headmaster?” I was terrified. Would I get in trouble? Would my mother and I be crossing boundaries we shouldn’t cross?

My mom and I went to Mr. White’s office. “Linda wants to do the high jump,” my mother said.

“Mrs. Martinez, you don’t understand. This is the tradition of our Annual Sports Day,” he said.

“But Mr. White, I don’t know where it says that girls cannot do this.”

The headmaster couldn’t find any rules that said girls couldn’t do the high jump. “I have to think about this,” he said at last.

When we got home, my mom told me something I would always remember: this wasn’t just about me. “Maybe other girls want to do this, too,” she said.

My mother waited a week, but still didn’t get the headmaster’s reply. So she walked over to the school again. “Mr. White, please. I ask you this not for me and not for Linda, but let’s just see how it works.” In the end, Mr. White agreed.

I stood on the field of the high jumping competition.

To my surprise, some of the cheers I got were from boys!