“Runners, on your mark. Get set...” Bang! And I was off, along with other teenage runners from high schools across the county. It was a fine day, like any other fair-weather autumn day in Maryland. But the race that day felt unique (特别的) from the get-go. For one thing, I liked the course. It was my team's home course, one I was used to running during practices. It took runners along terrain (地形) that included open fields, hills and even dirt paths through a small forest. It was a beautiful 5-kilometer course. This particular race was our team’s invite, and I was proud to be sharing the course with competitors from other schools.                           It also meant a lot more than normal — that my parents were there to cheer me on.

With so much to expect that day, I was ready to run! And I didn't want to be stuck with other runners, as is typical at the beginning of most cross-country races. So when the gun sounded, I took off running, leaving everyone else in the dust.

The first part of our course followed a large open field before disappearing into the forest. Within seconds of the start, I was far ahead of everyone, and all of the fans could see it. It felt magnificent!

But that feeling didn't last long. Little did I know my coach was laughing to himself thinking, “Gabe is done for!” And I was. My body was telling me to slow down. My pride, however, said “No! Not until you’re out of sight of the audiences!” I was in pain, but I kept up my pace until I reached the forest. Once I was among the trees, I slowed way down.

I enjoyed most races, even while pushing myself, but this one was not enjoyable in the least. I finished the race, but in nowhere near the time I could have if I’d paced myself well from the beginning. Every time I reflect on that cross-country season, I’m reminded of something: Pride is no substitute for pace.

For many years, Bruce Bexler dreamed of going where no human had gone before. He wanted to cut a path through unexplored lands and discover rare, exotic species.

That might sound like an impossible dream, but Bexler turned it into a reality.

In December 2015, he and a team of Australian and American scientists ventured into an isolated tropical rain forest on the island of New Guinea. They were the first people ever to enter the mist-covered region. “As time was limited, we were dropped in by helicopter. Once we were on the ground, there were no trails anywhere; it was really hard to get around, ” Bexler says.

Within minutes of landing, the team spotted a black chicken-like bird with strange orange skin hanging from its neck. The scientists soon determined that the unusual creature was a type of honeyeaters — the first new bird species to be sighted on New Guinea in 60 years.

The honeyeater wasn’t the only surprise for the scientists. They discovered more than 40 previously unknown plant and animal species — 13 birds of paradise, 20 frogs, four butterflies, and five palms. “We were like kids in a candy store,” Bexler recalls. “Everywhere we looked, we saw amazing things we had never seen before.”

The newfound species didn’t shy away from the scientists. Two long-nosed echidnas — primitive egg-laying mammals — let the visitors pick them up and take them back to camp to study them. An echidna looks like a hedgehog and is also called a spiny anteater.

Bexler thinks the animals weren’t scared because they had never seen humans before. “In almost all parts of New Guinea, animals are hunted for food, and because of this, they are very cautious of people,” he explains. “This area gives scientists a place where they can go to study the behaviours of animals that have not yet learned to be afraid of people. ”

Scientists believe the area is probably the largest untouched forest in Asia. Local people called Kwerba hunt and collect plants from the outer-edges of the forest but told Bexler that not even their ancestors had gone so far into the woods. The wooded area is approximately a 10-day walk from the nearest village.

Bexler and his team did not have enough time during the expedition to study the area completely. They hope to return and expect to record many more undiscovered species. “We just scratched the surface,” Bexler says. “Anyone who goes there will come back with a mystery.”

The city of Richmond announced that Roscoe Burnems would become the city’s first poet laureate (桂冠诗人), a poet recognized for achievements in poetry.

During his two-year term as a poet laureate, Burnems is responsible for being a poetry advocate by providing access to poetry throughout the city and offering opportunities to use the power of words to heal wounds, open hearts and minds, and bring people closer together. He has the freedom to create and develop his own projects during his term and will receive a $4,000 annual bonus.

Burnems’ love of poetry began at a an early age when he was struggling against depression. His English teacher recommended him to read poetry, which later brought him a peaceful mental state and helped him recover from depression. He soon decided that poetry was something he would run after for his lifetime. “People gravitate to poetry because they can find themselves in the poems,” he says. “It allows readers to feel the emotional part of our experiences.”

He says poetry is a great platform to discuss mental health- depression and the emotional stresses that come with daily life. Relieving those stresses is central to some of the work he does with young people. Last year, Burnems started a youth poetry producing competition for local high school students.

Burnems says he loves and supports different types of art, and his next move is to explore poetry through cooperation across media. Richmond’s paintings on the wall are a good example. He says,“Richmond is getting known for these beautiful paintings on display across the city, and I want to add a literary component to that.”