**Sha’Carri Richardson: A Different Kind of Race**
When I first met her, I’ll be honest—I didn’t think too much of it. She wasn’t what I expected, not at all. At that point in my life, everything revolved around track and field. My world was the lanes, the finish lines, the relentless pursuit of being faster, sharper, stronger. Every day was about proving myself, carrying the weight of expectations, and building a legacy that no one could deny. Romance? It wasn’t even in the race I was running.
But—she—she walked into my life like a different kind of sprint. Not the kind where seconds mattered, but one where every moment stretched out, heavy and meaningful. She didn’t see just the athlete, the headlines, or the controversies. She saw me—the woman behind the speed, behind the fire, behind the armor I wear on and off the track.
At first, I resisted it. Love felt like a distraction, something that could pull me off pace. But with her, it wasn’t a distraction—it was a reminder. A reminder that even champions need a place to rest, to breathe, to be vulnerable without judgment. She became my safe lane, the one where I didn’t have to compete, didn’t have to prove, didn’t have to win—just exist.
She pushed me too, not with a stopwatch, but with belief. She reminded me that strength isn’t just about running through storms, but also about allowing someone to stand with you in the rain. And slowly, I realized—this wasn’t slowing me down. It was giving me wings I didn’t know I had.
Now, when I step on the track, I still run for greatness. But when I step off, I know I’ve already found something greater—love that runs just as deep as the fire in my soul.
