Pumped {Pokémon Short Story}

Final Chapter: Pedal For the Medal

Rad dances up the steep hill of Route 16 with Rydel close behind. The two of them continue their shouting match, even with the pace they have and heavy breathing.

"Don't be a scaredy-Skitty! Just try and pass me!" Rad roars as the duo reach about a third of the way up the hill.

"Hah! Unlike you, I don't run away like a Poochyena with its tail between its legs!" Rydel shouts back. The two of them pant heavily, the drops of sweat cascading down their temples. Despite the quick start, their earlier established lead diminishes by every meter they climb.

"Don't tell me Mr. Speedy has tired himself out!" Rydel shouts as Rad's pace slows. With that comment, Rad accelerates in a defiant response. Rydel stays close as the two continue their ascent up the hill.

Behind them is last year's winner, Griffin Bellamy. He silently watches as the two rivals (what he considers nitwits) go back and forth at each other, like a Zangoose and Seviper. When one thinks he has the edge, the other follows suit. It may seem pointless, but, at the same time, they motivate each other. To Griffin, that rivalry is the only thing keeping those two in the front.

With his left hand, Griffin shifts one gear downward. He knows that Route 16 is a torturous climb, especially in the midday heat the race started in. Sweat slides down his nose over his lips. He grabs the water bottle mounted on his bicycle and squirts a bit into his mouth, gulping the freshness to cool him down. He knows that the keys to climbing are power, being lightweight, and rhythm. When climbing, you can't be like the two guys in front of him and expend all of your power at once. That leads to muscle fatigue and it won't get you the results you wish for.

"Whew," he says quietly, shifting his gear down one click. He then stands on his bicycle and slightly accelerates his pace. By both standing and sitting, it distributes strain during a climb. Combine this with a fixed heart-rate and steady cadence, you can efficiently make your way to the top.

But this race is different than just any athletic road race. Because every competitor has a trick up their sleeve.

Or, more appropriately, affixed to their handlebars.

Griffin glances to his right. He sees the sign that signifies the halfway point of the slope. Now is the perfect time for him to make his move for the front. He leans on the drop handles of his handlebars as he sits back down. The two guys in front of him are in the perfect position for him to surpass them.

"Let's go, Bronzor," he says, pressing the capsule's center button. With a flash of light, the Bronzor releases onto his shoulder. Griffin points to the sky, gripping his handlebars, as he leans forward on his bicycle.

"Gravity."

In an instant, every single competitor—save for the reigning champion himself—all feel the immense pressure weigh heavily on them. Those in the back of the pack slow down almost to a crawl. Some even dismount from their bicycles. It was the strategy that brought Griffin victory last year. There is no reason it wouldn't do so again.

Griffin accelerates by dancing his way up the slope. Sure enough, within seconds, he catches up to Rydel and Rad. To Griffin's surprise, the two rivals are...still shouting at each other?

"That Griffin kid used his Gravity tactic again! What are you gonna do about it?!" Rydel shouts as he rams into Rad's left side.

"I have no intention of doing anything! Why don't you do something, Rydel?!" Rad shouts back. Griffin can only sigh as he passes the two kings—now former kings—of cycling. He stands back up and easily passes them up. He watches the sign signalling the three-fourths marker as he continues his ascent of the hill. Everything is working just as he wanted it to.