It's fine to be last.
There is a statement that doesn't show up in many places. The truth is though, last place is still a place and the person in that place still completed their race. I have a good bit of experience with last place. It was mine more often than not the four years I was on my high school track team. Yeah, that's really what I just said: all four years in last place. If I have triggered you to ask why anyone would do that, well, that's kind of the point here.
So, I signed up my asthmatic, knee brace-wearing, had a doctor's note to get out of running the mile since eighth grade self for track. It's not that I can't or couldn't run, it's that after a certain distance, I have to walk or I can't breathe. So, I became a sprinter in the two shortest events available the 100 and 200 meter dash. I ran with my team and finished behind everyone else. Like, a lot.
Did you know that from the back, you always get to see the winner? Did you know that the winner and last place do the same work out the day after the race? Did you know that I improved my time on each of my events more than the winners who took home the trophies every single season?
All of that is true, as is the fact that I didn't run track to win. I competed against the body that made it harder for me. I ran to get better than I was. I ran because I loved it. And I ran because my friend who was never supposed to be able to walk could never run. You see, when you're someone else's legs, there's no trophy needed and winning doesn't matter. All that does matter is doing the thing you can do, even if it's harder for you. And learning to do it better because somewhere out there, someone is watching. And somewhere out there is someone who desperately needs to not be last place every single time. And there are also people out there like me who don't mind the back of the race as long as we still finish and still get better. Because we know that last is still a place and it's fine to be last.