The class is divided into two teams for a soccer game. Once outside in the warm sunlight and fresh air, you start to feel better.
Very quickly, however, you realize that your body isn't up to a vigorous workout. You stumble, feeling weak and clumsy. Your legs don't move the same way. Your hand-eye coordination is off. You think it's exhaustion, like when you're sick, but you don't feel tired or ill. Just...different. Adding to the problem is the unfamiliar sensation of your ponytail constantly slapping against your neck.
The coach notices your poor game and swaps you out with one of the two relief kids. As you collect yourself on the sideline bench, the coach comes over to you.
"You okay, son?"
"I...don't know, coach," you say, actually relieved to finally talk to someone about how you're feeling. "I'm not sick, at least I don't think so. Probably tired. I just can't keep my head in the game."
The coach grunts "Rest for a few minutes and you can get back in there." Then he walks down the sideline to resume monitoring the game.
Typical for him. If you're not sick, he doesn't figure anything should be wrong. You remember some of his common remarks about keeping your head in the zone, and your eye on the ball. You worry that no amount of concentration will help improve your performance today.
You take the time to examine your new limbs. Being shorter isn't the only problem now. Your arms and legs didn't shift in direct proportion to your whole body. It's like your entire framework is changing, from the bones on outward. Your limbs are different lengths than you're used to.
In a minute, you're called back into the game to relieve another player. Having a better idea of your problems, you try to adjust your movements accordingly. You start doing a better job, though as you line up a goal shot, your leg misses the ball on the kick and an opponent steals it away from you.
Refusing to waste time cursing yourself, you get back at him. You're determined to prove you can overcome your...whatever your problem is. His legs move fast, but you're feeling lighter than ever, and therefore faster. You muster your focus to make that speed count, and with a precision movement of your right leg, you kick the ball away. It's captured by another of your teammates, who quickly sends it into the goal.
Feeling vindicated, you continue the game and surprise yourself with how quickly you're adapting to your recent changes. After the game is finished and you're walking back inside, it occurs to you that maybe you adapted more easily in the second half because your body's changes had stopped. You can only hope.