A Psychic's Gambit

Running out of Time

     My Dad was the biggest reason that I decided to run track and cross country. As a kid, my schools would host sports days where classes would compete against each other in races, ball games, and a scavenger hunt. Families would come and set up camps that seemed massive to us then, and under their shade, we could have a picnic with our families.

     Regardless of how I actually did, Mom and Dad would always smile and cheer when I was finished with my race and tell me how proud they were of me. Looking back, I guess those moments actually did matter a lot — the sun beaming off of their faces, the fullness of their laughter and smiles. As the years went on, I ended up memorizing what they would say.

     "Great job, sweetie. I think that's a new record."

     "That's my girl; I'm so proud of you."

     Mom barely came to my meets once I started high school, and who knows where Dad is or if he even cares. My friends are here to support me now, and the little girl that wanted to make Mommy and Daddy proud doesn't need them anymore.

     The announcement rang out for the competitors in the 1600 meter relay to make their way to the track. I was just a hair too slow to make that team, but I preferred the 3200 meter anyway. It gave me more time to gage who to pass and where since it was much less of a sprint.

     I stopped by the bleachers to watch for anyone who would be running both races. East Cove High, South Shore High, and Queen Nana Women's Academy all gave up strong runners for this race. The teams of runners huddled together at various points around the track and outside of its fences. I looked over my own team, and a sense of prideful apprehension creeped into my mind.

     The team worked well together; all the practices spent getting the baton hand off had paid off within the first meet. Each of the girls had great times on their individual legs of the race. What created that sense of worry was me. Even though I was physically at the meet, there were still those parts of me that were anywhere but there.

     I need sleep: that nap is going to wear off soon.

     I wish I hadn't yelled at Danny; he didn't deserve that.

     I wonder what's for dinner...

     The pop of the starting gun pulled me from my stupor. The first 1600 meter relay was underway, and I shook off all other thoughts. I watched each of the runners intently to find anything that I needed to know in case they ran multiple races.

     A tall girl with light red hair tied back seemed to barely touch the ground with each step. Another with short chopped dirty blonde hair ran heavily as she fell behind the crowd. A couple others fought like animals for their respective places all without laying a finger on each other. The first girl — the red head — passed in front of me with a breeze behind her; shortly after came most of the group and the three stragglers.

     South Shore took a definitive lead in the first leg of the race; their handoff was flawless as well, and the gap only widened as the second girl took off. One by one, the group transitioned to their second runners, and the stragglers of the first leg passed their burden on. The group started to fall apart on the second lap as split seconds lost in handoffs became ten and twenty meter gaps with each stride.

     Our own team held their own, narrowly avoiding colliding with one of the teams from East Cove. We were the only school to provide just one team for the 1600 and 3200 meter relays, placing all of our best into those quartets and all of the pressure on them as well. Again, the South Shore runner breezed by me without a single heavy stride. I could tell that they had spent the entirety of their practices improving since our last competition a month prior.