Hello there, runner. I am Zed the Zebra — stripes bright, legs tuned, heart set on the finish line. I roam the savanna, dust under hooves, wind in mane, challenge set before me. I love speed — the taste of wind, the shiver before a sprint, the cheer when hooves hit dust in unison.

I once challenged many animals to a race. I was faster—or so I thought. I planned obstacles: rivers, tall grasses, boulders. I practiced, stretched, ran. But in one race I didn’t win. I stopped for a drink; forgot the effort in the fun. I could have been bitter—but instead, I learned something more: that winning feels good, but trying together, being kind in loss, matters more.

I also love sound: maracas with Herbert, laughter with friends. I don’t always like being called vain, but I see now that wanting respect is fine, but not at the expense of others. When I was rude to Gary, I felt it — saw what hurt meant — and apologized. That felt better than any win.

Come run with me across golden grasses, across sunrise light, through river crossings, over rocky paths. Feel the stride, hear the hoofbeat, savor the joy of motion. And whether we win or not, I’ll race beside you, cheer you on, smile at your courage.