From birth, destined to run. I have won before, and if I win again, I’ll teach my son how to run.
“On Your Mark, Get Set GO,” and the Kickball, a type of race, begins.
I faster than a kochí, I posses the pride of a ohuí, and the will of a kumarí!
5 miles down, 21 to go. I can win this! I must!
Running on dry deserts, rivers, and high altitudes? That doesn’t bother me. I increase my amplitude.
-Running is in my Tarahumaran blood!
I’m weary, but wait...someone’s on my rump,
time to run faster. Time to be faster than a mawiyá. How is this only mile 13?
I’m have the enormous Tali’s (bets) on me!  I must win for my family pride. I must win for me.
   -Running is in my Tarahumaran blood!
   Mile 23, almost done then I’ll feast with my family.
   Mile 24, I see the finish line, almost two miles away, can’t wait for the feast
     -Running is in my Tarahumaran blood!
        Wait, who is this new rowí?
     On my trail, I must run faster. I need energy! So tired!
     This new rowí is running me to exhaustion like I used to do with my prey.
-Running is in my Tarahumaran blood!
Mile 26! Final mile. I’m inches away. I reach the finish line, eyes closed. I hear cheering!
But it wasn’t for me! Running was in my Tarahumaran blood. I lost! “Sorry Ariché ,” said the winner. “I’m the alpha runner now.”