"Captains, form your teams!" the teacher called, "First, Maria!" She was my friend, but liked to win, so chose the tallest child, who ran so fast. The other captain went for someone thin. Then they took turns, and every time they named 'not me'. The smallest girl, the least desired, the slowest runner, not fierce enough. Ashamed, I wished to disappear. All kids assigned, no team chose me. I loved the game, the grace, the feat, hated the race, the strain, defeat. "Leave me alone to read a book" and face a page where I can dream and not compete. I swim and hike, now, run, row and bike, don't care for gold but love being athlete-like.