There is a moment in every 100-meter race when Cedar Yaklich is moving fast enough to feel the wind. Ahead is the finish line. Around her is the noise of a track meet. Somewhere in the crowd are family members and friends cheering her on. And Cedar is pushing.

"It feels amazing," she said. "Especially if you beat your time. It feels so good to know you accomplished something."

Cedar is an eighth grader at Tri-Valley Middle School and a member of the track team, competing in the 100 meters and shot put. She also happens to do both from a wheelchair.

At about six months old, Cedar was diagnosed with cancer on her spine. The disease damaged her spinal cord, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down without sensation in her lower body. It is an important fact about Cedar. It is nowhere close to the most interesting thing about her.

Cedar is one of four children. She loves swimming, spending time outside with her friends, and cheering at basketball games. She likes eighth grade because there is more freedom. She used to read more than she does now. Her older brother is a senior, another is a sophomore, and her younger sister is in sixth grade.

Her friends include Kinzley, Ally, and Tali. Ally and Cedar didn't particularly like each other at first, which somehow turned into friendship once they got to know each other. Tali has been part of her life since they were babies.

Cedar's world, in other words, looks a lot like the world of other eighth graders. That is important to her.

Asked what makes her parents special, Cedar didn't mention the appointments or medical care that have necessarily been part of their lives together. Instead, she talked about belonging.

"They want to make sure I'm included in everything," she said. "They really care about me, and they don't treat me differently than they do my other siblings."

Why does that matter?

"It makes me feel like I'm really a part of the family and not excluded."

Then she found a wonderful way to describe herself.

"I'm just, like, the same different."

Track has given Cedar another place to experience that same kind of belonging. She first became interested after seeing a friend who also uses a wheelchair compete. School sports options for Cedar are limited, and track offered something she particularly wanted: competition. Still, she was nervous.

Her brothers kept encouraging her.

"They were like, 'That is so cool,'" Cedar remembered.

Her mom wanted her to try it, too. Eventually Cedar agreed.

"I did it, and I loved it."

She races in a specialized chair and has covered 100 meters in about 22 seconds. Shot put requires a different setup: Cedar is secured to a throwing chair and uses a pole for leverage, allowing her to twist her upper body and generate momentum for the throw. Both events require strength, technique, and practice.

But when Cedar talks about track, the competition is only part of what she loves. There are also the bus rides.

"There's so much excitement, and I'm laughing, like, 100% of the time."

Those rides matter because Cedar isn't traveling separately from the team. She rides the same bus, shares the same anticipation on the way to a meet and the same stories on the way home. She belongs.

The same is true with basketball cheer, which Cedar also enjoys. She began with football cheer before deciding that basketball, and its considerably more wheelchair-friendly hardwood surface, was a better fit.

None of this means every activity is accessible to Cedar. It isn't. She knows there are things other students can participate in through school that she cannot. But Cedar seems far more interested in figuring out what she can do than cataloging what she can't.

Ask about her future, and she doesn't yet have a profession picked out or a perfectly mapped plan. She's an eighth grader. There is time for that.

"I just think I'm gonna figure it out as I go on," she said.

That confidence may have something to do with the people surrounding her. Cedar talks about an older brother who inspires her by being kind and caring. She talks about parents who insist she be included. She talks about friends who care about her, make her laugh, and cheer for her. She talks about teammates and family waiting near a finish line.

And then there is Cedar herself, moving toward it. Fast.

The wind is in her face. The crowd is making noise. Her arms keep pushing. And when she crosses that line, Cedar knows exactly what she has done.

Accomplished something.