You had dreamed of this moment for as long as you could remember. Watching Mal O’Brien dominate the CrossFit Games, her strength and determination pushing her to become one of the youngest and most powerful athletes in the sport, had always inspired you. She was relentless, a true warrior, and now, by some strange twist of fate, you were closer to her than you ever imagined possible.
But there was one very big problem.
You were only two inches tall.
You had no idea how it happened. One minute, you were standing off to the side in the training area, hoping for a glimpse of Mal as she prepared for her lifts. The next, the world shifted, and suddenly, everything was impossibly huge. The floor stretched out like an endless plain, the air seemed thicker, and the dull hum of the gym’s lights echoed around you like distant thunder.
And then there was her.
Mal O’Brien towered above you, a living colossus, every movement sending tremors through the ground beneath your feet. She was deep into her pre-lift routine, adjusting the plates on a barbell with practiced efficiency. Her powerful body was on full display—she wore a sleek, black sports bra that hugged her torso, showcasing her sculpted abs and defined shoulders. Every ripple of muscle was a testament to years of relentless training. Her high-waisted, gray compression shorts clung to her toned hips and thighs, highlighting the sheer strength packed into her legs.
Her skin had a light sheen of sweat that glistened under the bright lights, and her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, though a few stray strands clung to her forehead. Her expression was focused, her jaw clenched in quiet determination as she mentally prepared for the heavy lift ahead.
You couldn’t believe how massive she was now. From your new perspective, her every move seemed like an unstoppable force. But what really caught your attention were her feet—those same feet that had carried her to victory so many times. She wore a pair of worn black Nike sports slides, the rubber soles slightly faded from constant use. The thick strap hugged the top of her foot, leaving her toes exposed, her toenails neatly trimmed and painted a soft, neutral color.
Each step she took sent a tremor through the ground, her footfalls echoing like distant thunderclaps. The air displaced by her movements felt like a gust of wind to you, and you quickly realized how dangerously close you were to her. Her foot lifted, the slide smacking back against her heel with a soft thwap as she shifted her weight.
BOOM.
Her foot slammed down, mere inches away from where you stood. The impact knocked you off your feet, sending you tumbling across the mat. You scrambled to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. She hadn’t seen you. Of course, she hadn’t—how could she? You were smaller than a pebble to her, barely a speck on the floor.
But you had to get her attention.
You sprinted toward her foot, dodging the looming shadow as her slide lifted again. Every step she took was a near-death experience, the rubber sole slamming down with terrifying force, each time narrowly missing you. You could feel the heat radiating from her skin through the open-toed slide, the faint scent of lotion and sweat lingering in the air.
“Mal! Down here!” you shouted, but your tiny voice was nothing more than a whisper against the cacophony of the gym.
Desperation fueled you as you reached the edge of her slide. You pounded your fists against the thick rubber, the texture rough against your tiny hands.
Thud-thud-thud!
The vibrations traveled through her foot, and she paused. Her brow furrowed, her gaze shifting downward. For a brief moment, her blue eyes scanned the floor, and then—
Her eyes locked onto you.
Her expression twisted instantly into one of disgust and confusion.
“Ughhh… Ew,” she muttered, her nose crinkling as her lips curled.
Your heart dropped as you realized what was about to happen.
Her foot lifted, the slide’s sole rising high above you like a black wall of rubber.
“Wait! No!” you screamed, but it was too late.
BOOM.
The slide came down with immense force, slamming you into the mat. The pressure was overwhelming, but miraculously, you weren’t crushed. The thick rubber sole pressed down on you, the textured ridges digging into your body. The heat from her skin radiated through the material, and the faint scent of her lotion filled your nose as you lay pinned beneath her foot.
Time slowed to a crawl.
The pressure wasn’t enough to kill you, but it was enough to leave you in agony. Every fiber of your being screamed in protest as you struggled to move, but the weight was too much. You were trapped.
But then… the pressure eased.
Her foot lifted just enough to give you room to move. You gasped for air, your body aching as you dragged yourself toward the edge of her slide. The ridges of the sole gave you something to hold onto as you clawed your way up the side, inch by agonizing inch.
You pulled yourself onto the curve where her toes peeked out, the heat from her skin warming your tiny body. The arch of her foot loomed over you, and the scent of her lotion mixed with the salty tang of sweat was overpowering. Her toes flexed slightly, sending a subtle tremor through your body as you clung to the edge of her slide.
You pressed yourself against the strap, gripping the textured surface for dear life. Her foot shifted again, her heel lifting slightly as she adjusted her stance. The movement made you cling even tighter, your tiny body bouncing gently with the rhythm of her steps.
You were completely at her mercy now, riding along unnoticed as she moved with ease, completely unaware of the tiny admirer clinging desperately to her slide.
Each step was a rollercoaster, the force of her movements sending vibrations through the slide that rattled your bones. But you held on, determined to stay close to her, to survive—because somehow, you had to find a way to make her see you.
Mal O’Brien, a titan in the world of CrossFit, was unknowingly carrying you along as she prepared for her next lift. And as her powerful body moved with the grace and precision that had made her a champion, you could only hope that somehow, somehow, she would realize that the tiny speck clinging to her foot wasn’t just another piece of dust—but someone who had always admired her from afar.
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