Mathlete vs Athlete – Femi S-A
For just over an hour, Reece Maths Clare showed he wasn’t as quick on the road as he is quick with numbers. The student has surpassed the… well not quite a master, in fact easily mistaken for a sixth former (as Tilly Arulampalam pointed out in the year 12 induction dinner), big brother seems like a better fit. His antics were truly incredible, trying to rig the race, claiming he was ‘letting me win’ and even suggesting we finish linked arm in arm for a draw. This isn’t Cinderella, Sir, it’s a battle of egos, and guess who’s got the bragging rights for another year?
When I first met RMC in year 9, I thought he was a new sixth former. Little did I know that within two years, a fierce rivalry would commence. How did this all begin?
A youthful, overly eager, RMC approached me, asking for help with the quadratic formula was. From this day forth I always stood by him, guiding him on his Mathematics journey. Until the day of reckoning arrived. His confidence grew, then he went too far, claiming he could beat me in any race over 5k. I had to teach him again.
Clare Vs Femi: the first showdown
The date was set, 15km. The records are debatable, but my memory serves me well. I finished in 1 hour 4 minutes, while Clare trailed behind with 1 hour 6. Not only had I beat him in a distance I had never run before, but also crushed his PB. Barely seeing him throughout the course of the race it was safe to say the defeat was clear, and quite bad he must admit. I generously gave him a second chance; 1 year to begin his ‘winter arc.’ But little did he know, nothing he could do could help him.
Redemption(possibly): Octobers 13,2024
RMC had every reason to beat me this time. While he was training to specifically beat me, I was focusing on racing good competition, sprint based, becoming a top-ranked 400m runner; hardly preparing for a 15km race. Before the race he said things like:
I’m going to break your ego I’m cooking You are cooked I will be cooking
The race began just after 14:00, and RMC went of way too quick, the pressure had got to him. Halfway through the first lap, I had caught him, now only creating a large lead. My greatest enemy was awaiting, smelly farm. Its stench, combined with the rice of I had eaten beforehand, forced me to stop at the edge of the path and do what Jack Draper did at the US Open. A few minutes later, RMC had run past. This would not be how the race would end. I quickly caught up to him, exiting smelly farm neck and neck, commencing the second half of this race.
Context is needed for the second half of this race, my laces always come undone during a long-distance race and never once have I stopped to tie them. On our way towards Alton Waters, they were untied as usual, RMC, seeing the opportunity, kindly offered to stop so I could tie them, I thought I might as well. However, Reece Maths Clare decided this could be later used as an excuse if he were to lose ‘letting me win.’ (Editor – This plot twist is worth of Shakespearean tragedy).
As we made our way to the drift, I made my move, building a small 15-meter lead. I had planned to let him run past before launching a sprint finish like I normally do. But the cheat had other ideas, he wanted to rig the race, leave the decider till next year. About 200 meters from the finish, I suggested we sprint to the end. He agreed, sealing his fate. I crossed the line 10 seconds ahead.
For the second year in a row, I had defeated Reece Maths Clare.
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