Tick, Tick, Tick.  Listening, Lenny tried to guess how many seconds he had left.  He was trying not to watch the clock, for every time he looked too intently, the minute hand seemed to go five times as slow.  So, Lenny glanced up quickly.  Five more minutes, he told himself.  Five minutes until he could put on his sneakers and head to the annual Georgetown Middle School track meet, where he would become the fastest kid in school-- or as he liked to imagine-- the fastest kid in the world.
Finally, Mr.B silenced the class and called out the words that Lenny had been waiting for.  “All tracksters may pack up and head to the field.”
Lenny nearly jumped out of his seat, but realized that everyone was staring at him, so calmly, he grabbed his backpack and dashed out of the class room using his infamous run.  Everyone watched as the bushy haired kid twisted and kicked out the door and just as Lenny was almost down the hall, he heard a boy call out, “He run’s like giraffe on crack!”
Suddenly, Lenny got a spinning sensation in his stomach.  The words ran through his head again and again as he stould in the hallway and his face lit on fire.  How could the fastest kid alive, run like a giraffe?  How was he to win all the babes and live in a mansion, if he was going to be that kid with the weird run?  As he made his way to the track, he devise a new strut.  In the middle of the halls, he would break into a jog, practicing.  
Lenny imagined girls watching him run and breaking into giggling, saying, “Isn’t he cute?”  or “That’s the run of the fastest kid alive.”
As he reached pearl colored sand of Georgetown Middle Schools oval-shaped track, his coach came up behind him, and put a hand on Lenny’s shoulder.
“Your gonna win this one, son.  I can feel it in my bones.”  He said, confidently.
Lenny responded, “Yup.  I’m the fasted kid in the world.”   The coach just chuckled and moved on to another trackster warming up.
Lenny started to stretch, pointing his toes and doing jumping jacks.  The whole time, he thought of his potential glory, but then the boy’s hurtful statement rang in his ears again.  Lenny started to imagine a giraffe running across the sand, taking up the whole path, blocking the other runner’s way.  It wobbled back and forth, awkwardly, until it crashed, face first, into the dirt which rose up from the ground around it’s body.  Lenny shook his head, trying to escape the image.
A loud horn was sounded, and all the runners turned toward a man holding a megaphone.  
“Hello tracksters!  My name is Will Rodney and I am the master of ceremonies!  Are you all ready to try your best?”  There were screams.  “Are you ready to have fun?”  People started to jump up and down.  “Are you ready to win?”  People went crazy, all of them certain that they were going to be victorious, but Lenny yelled the loudest out of them all.
Will started to list the events and the students competing in them.  Finally, the first event started: Lenny’s event.  
“All runners competing in the 100 yard dash, step up to the starting line.”  Will boomed into his megaphone.
Lenny put his toe onto the yellow paint, marking the beginning of his race.  The sound of cheers made his heart race and pound in his head.  He pictured his new run shooting out in front of him.  He had won smaller competitions before, but this was the biggest event of the year and he was going to cross the finish line first.
Will Rodney stepped up to the side of the track, holding his megaphone in the air.
“I’m gonna’ say ready, set, go and when this bullhorn sounds, you guys will take off!  So,”  He paused, “Are you ready?”
The tracksters eye’s hardened as they got into their positions, some vibrating with excitement.   
“Then get set...”  The whole line stiffened as each individual braced to hear the words...
“Go!”  Will screamed.
Seven of the fastest kids in the county shot forward like bullets, Lenny slightly ahead.  
Keeping his head forward and eyes straight ahead, Lenny focused on keeping his legs from waggling to the side, like a giraffe on crack.  His feet fell to the ground with each beat then sprang off the ground.  Lenny felt like a winner already... until... one by one the kids started to edge past him.  He cried out in horror as each kid left him in a trail of dust.  
Thinking fast, Lenny tried to think of what he was doing wrong.  His legs were moving fast enough, his breathing was steady, his arms were relaxed and his hands were erect like knives.  Then, he looked down at his feet and just as he reached the fifty yard line, he knew what was wrong.
Suddenly, Lenny was boosted forth, his legs flying in all directions.

The giraffe was back.  

People started to cheer loudly as he passed the sixth runner, then the fifth.  Finally, he was neck in neck with the runner in lead.  The finish line was just yards away and he saw some girls at the end screaming wildly and some of the kids from class clapping their hands.  He was tempted to try his run again; to stop clawing the air and thrashing his legs, but just before he was going to stiffen his run, he heard a vague noise between the pounding of feet.  A word being yelled over and over again- sweeping over the awaiting crowd.
As he neared the finish line he heard what it was.
“Crack!  Crack!  Crack!”  Students and teachers alike, screamed insanely for the kid with bouncy, bushy, black hair who’s run resembled a giraffe.
Lenny’s heart started to work faster and faster, along with his heart beat-- to the beat of the crowd-- until his chest pressed against a golden ribbon.  Lenny had crossed the finish line in first place.
Screams began to fill the field, echo across the campus and bristle the grass.  
“Lenny Chapman has won the 100 yard dash!”  Will boomed, excitedly.
The crazy-looking boy put his hands in the air and did a wild dance move- slightly resembling his run, as people began to crowd around him and shake his hand.  It then dawned on Lenny that he couldn’t of won without his famous strut.
Without it, Lenny might not have been the fastest kid at Georgetown Middle School, but with it he was the fastest human-giraffe, in the world.