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After what seemed like hours, we were told that it was time for us to get dressed. Yes, we had to put on costumes of the sausages, as without them, we would not be the “Racing Sausages”. We went down stairs blocked by gates into the basement of Miller Park, and after a short walk, came to the room in which the costumes were stored in. Right away, everyone except for me ran to the sausage that they wanted to race as. I got the one that no one else wanted, the Italian Sausage.

The Italian Sausage. The plainest of the four, dressed all in white with a black bow-tie and a gigantic nose. The only thing it had going for it was its quirky black mustache, which I found to be annoying. And now I was the Italian Sausage. Great. Just my luck.

After a little trouble putting the costume on, we were told the rules of the race. Basically, we were to run as fast as we could to the finish line after someone tagged our hand. I was extremely nervous that I was going to mess up. Even though the rules sounded so simple, I had a way of messing easy things up – especially in front of large groups of people. And here I was, in front of thousands of spectators, who would be watching. I could not make a mistake now. I couldn’t even say none of them knew me if I messed up. My friends were up there watching me too! And I knew if I messed up, they would bring it up again and again.

“Hey remember when Sam messed up when he was a Racing Sausage?”

“Haha yeah! THAT was sooooo funny!”

“I mean how could anyone mess up in a race?”

“Haha! I know right!”

And then I knew I could NOT mess up on this race.

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