“Race me.” I look up at Carmen. She fidgets in front of me, rocking forward onto the balls of her feet and back again, then pushing her toes into the ground, stretching out her arches. Her fingers tap anxiously against her thigh, and her eyes flash impatiently. “Race me,” she insists again. I cock my head. “what’s wrong, “ I ask. She bounces rapidly and glares. I chuckle at her impatience. She huffs loudly. “Will you just race me?” I can tell she’s almost fed up. “Why,” I ask, secretly enjoying her aggravation. “because, I won’t be able to push myself hard enough if I’m running alone. Now, race me,” she responds.