strength contest vs omega

“Next will be a contest of strength,” said the Director. “Omega’s muscles are approximately four hundred percent stronger and denser than a regular boy’s. Bring out the weights!”
I am weirdly, wickedly strong, and not just for a girl, not just for my age. I’m stronger than just about any grown-up, man or woman. We all are. But I didn’t have the bulk that Superboy did, and in general I was designed to be smart and fast, and to fly well. Not to be able to compete in a tractor pull.
It really was a tractor pull, in a way. Heavy weights were loaded onto a wooden platform. We were each given a thick chain. The idea was literally to pull the platform across the dirt. We were even until about five hundred pounds, then Superboy started to edge past me. I could barely budge six hundred and fifty pounds—he pulled it three feet.
They piled on more weight—eight hundred pounds. I couldn’t believe I was going to lose a strength contest to a boy. There was no way.
I gritted my teeth, cracked my knuckles, and put the chain over my already bruised shoulder. Omega and I looked at each other, side by side. When the Director blew sharply on her whistle, I put my head down, planted my feet in the dirt, and pulled with all my might. Sweat broke out on my forehead. It felt as though the chain were wearing a furrow in my shoulder. Breath hissed through my clenched teeth.
I made the platform tremble a little, moved it maybe a quarter of an inch.
Omega hauled it almost a foot.


Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports Chapter 118