Overview

A little colony of pigeons inhabited the broad, open spaces of the countryside, where undulating hills gave way to expansive meadows. A baby bird called Swift, who would eventually become known as The Racer, was one among them. Swift wasn't your typical pigeon. There was an unmistakable light in his eyes and a feeling of resolve that distinguished him from his contemporaries the instant he emerged from his shell. Swift had a different type of energy flowing through his veins than other pigeons, who spent their days lazily nibbling at seeds and soaking up the sun's warmth. He yearned for something more, something above the ordinary daily grind. Swift's fate started to take shape on a clear spring morning as the first rays of dawn illuminated the sky in shades of pink and gold. A rush of excitement shot through him as he opened his wings and flew for the first time. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before, the feeling of the wind under his feathers, the freedom of flying over the vast sky. Swift realized then and there that he was destined to be a racer, a champion of the air. He would commit himself to the chase of speed, testing the boundaries of his stamina and dexterity to become the flock's quickest flier. But it would not be simple to become a racer. It would need for self-control, tenacity, and unyielding resolve. Swift was aware that he would need to practice more diligently than in the past, push himself outside his comfort zone, and aim for perfection with each flight. Swift embarked on his quest to become The Racer with a fire-filled spirit and a hopeful heart. He put in endless practice, becoming more skilled at flying and stronger every day. Never letting anything get in the way of his aspirations, he soared through wind and rain, mist and storm. But as Swift quickly found out, there were many obstacles in the way of being great. On other days, he felt disheartened and worn out, and it looked like he would never be able to fly quickly enough to keep up with the other pigeons. There were times when he questioned if he would ever be able to accomplish his aim. Nevertheless, Swift persisted in trying. He found solace in the company of his fellow pigeons and in the words of his instructor, Atlas, an elderly and sage bird who had once won a race himself.

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