Not If I See You First(73)

Trish doesn’t have steeplechase today or the thousand meters, her other distance, so it’s just the two of us for as long as we want to push it. Which is bad news for her. I could run like this forever.

After about a dozen laps I say, “You ready to run?”

“We are…”

I laugh. “This is jogging!”

We’ve gone maybe three miles—I haven’t really been keeping track—which is far longer than her distances but I figure at this pace she’d have plenty of juice left.

“I’m just the rudder,” she says in a determined voice. “You’re the motor.”

I pick it up, slowly to maintain our rhythm. Once we’re out of the turn I push our pace until we hit the next curve. When we’re out of it again, I push it some more.

Now this is running! Not my sprint speed but still a good solid run.

The next corner is rougher since the way we turn changes at different speeds and we’re not used to going this fast— “Annie!” Trish calls. “Annie, move!”

I keep going, trusting that Trish will stop us if we can’t smoothly bend around people ahead or if they don’t move out of our way.

We hit the straight again. I kick it up.

“Gary!” Trish yells. “On your left!”

I hear the squeal of a bullhorn turning on. Coach Underhill’s voice blasts across the track. “Everyone clear lanes three and four! Don’t make Oberlander do everything—she’s got her hands full.”

With me.

I hear some guy say “Holy shit” as we blow past him—maybe it’s this Gary guy, I don’t know—and Trish pulls me left into the curve.

I’m at the limit of Trish’s pace in strides per second. I know this because when I push a bit more we start to fall out of sync and I have to ease off a bit. It helps that she’s always on my left, on the inside, to pull me with the tether into turns rather than push me, since this means her distance is slightly shorter than mine which compensates for my faster speed. We won’t have to worry about turns when we start working on sprints later but running the oval will teach us how to stay together under harder conditions.

“More room!” Trish yells though it’s more of a hoarse shout. There’s no way she’s going to let me outrun her even if it kills her.

I can tell she’s trying to keep me in the lanes Coach cleared which is harder than just going around the oval. At the next curve I get out of sync again and stumble—not a big stumble—and I pull on the tether and she stays solid. I regain my balance and we’re fine again.

More than fine.

I’m running on a track!

I’m turning! I’ve now run farther without stopping than I ever have.

“Parker!” Trish gasps. “We have… to stop…”

“What’s wrong?”

She’s slowing and I match her pace and ease it down. We stop.

“Woo-hooo, Parker!” Molly calls from the bleachers. A couple people clap a few times.

“Are you hurt?” Maybe she pulled something.

“No,” she says, “I just… need… a break…”

When I hear she’s okay, I hug her and lift her off the ground. She grabs on to keep from falling. I set her down again and whisper in her ear, “Thank you!”

“What for?”

How can I describe how fantastic this is? To be able to run this far without stopping every hundred yards to figure out where I am and reorient before starting up again.

“For running with me,” I say. “Do you need to sit down?”

“No,” she says. “I mean yeah… I mean… I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh, sorry!” I laugh. “Go ahead. You know where I’ll be.”

“Back in… a minute. Well, maybe more… than a minute.”

She heads away and I wrap our tether around my wrist. I pull out my phone, plug in my earbuds, and call Molly. My phone is tucked away again and secure before she answers.

“You ready?” I ask.

“Where’s Trish going? I thought on Fridays she had nothing else to do.”

“Potty break. But I don’t want to cool down. Guide me?”

“God, really? I thought I was safe today.”

“Why’d you think that?”

“Because I’m stupid. Except I’m not. I know it’s not because you don’t want to cool down. You’re thinking about going faster than Trish can run. It’s crazy.”

“I wasn’t thinking that… but… now I am.”

“Great.”

“How’s the track look?”

“The runners are mostly in the inner couple lanes.”

“I should be fine toward the outside? No equipment or anything?”

“It’s all clear today.”

“Ready?”

“You know you’re wearing your scarf with stars on it, right? You’re going to see real stars if you run into a fence.”

“You can tell me more than how to turn, you know. Tell me to slow down or stop if I get too close to anything.”

“All right, then. Let’s go crazy.”

Molly tells me to pivot until I’m facing down the track. I intend to jog a full lap at this speed just to get in a groove with Molly talking me through it.