Rewired

Chapter 3: This Again?

     "Alright, give me a 2 lap warm up!", Our head coach told us after we'd settled our bags on a tarp, under a white pop up tent. His actual name was Jeff Mayweather, but everyone called him Coach Moose. I'm not sure how or when he got that name, but if I had to guess, it had something to do with the hulking biceps that stretched against any t-shirt he wore. In any case, it sounded cool and was less of a mouthful than his actual name.
     Making my way to the track, Carlie, Layla, and I broke into a light jog. The rest of our distance team, mostly sophomores and a couple juniors were already part of the way through the first 100 meters by the time we caught up, the boys having almost completed the first lap. As we came up from behind them I heard Iliana and Brooke jabbering about their prom dresses and who they were going with. Apparently Brooke was going with Sammy's friend Elliot, and Iliana with a sophomore named Mason.
     With any luck, Mason would be moving up to his first regionals this year in either the 400 or the 800. He was certainly built like a runner, tall and lean, but he had put in some heavy effort in the gym over the winter and the extra muscle seemed to have kicked his speed up a notch.
     Once we completed the two laps and sat down to stretch, Sammy plopped down next to me.
     "Hey, you." he said, leaning down to reach for his toes.
      "Hey, Sammy. What're you up for today?", I asked conversationally.
     "Shot, high jump, and pole vault," he replied, "How about you?"
"16 and 32," I told him with a smile on my face. I was still pretty pumped about those two events and my legs had felt great on the warm up. I could just tell that everything felt great, despite the heat that was working its way up.
The announcer came on over the speakers, and after the national anthem, first call came on for high jump.
"Well, that's me", Sammy said, "good luck with your races!"
"You, too!", I called after him. About five minutes after he jogged off toward the high jump out, I heard the call for the 1600. Carlie came over and found me, and we headed over. Layla was in the stands flirting with her boyfriend, Zeke, when Carlie yelled to her that we were leaving.
     "Good luck, you two!", she yelled down to us.
     When we got to the start, I stretched and did a few plyometric exercises. Jogging around, I noticed Sammy was about to take a turn for high jump. There looked to be about 8 guys left. If he kept up, he would qualify through. They were taking the top four. He took a few slow, graceful strides before finally speeding up and throwing himself backwards over the bar. He cleared it easily.
     As much as I could have stood tree and stared at him, number one, I would  have looked like a total weirdo, and number two, my race was getting ready to line up.
     The official handed me my number, instructed us that we were to wear no jewelry and to tuck our shirts in. I don't know why they did that. Everyone always pulled their jerseys back out within the first hundred, but this being districts, I decided to leave mine alone, just in case. I was the 4th seed in my heat. Carlie was running in the next one, which was awesome because we'd be able to watch each other and call out splits.
     I took my place, primed for the start, all adrenaline. Something about racing occasionally made me feel like nothing existed but my legs, my lungs, and the track. I could tell this was one of those days.
     As if confirming that this would be one of the best races of my life, I felt a couple of raindrops start right before the gun. Yes! Rain runs, while they could make traction a little more difficult, were my absolute favorite. It could take a wicked, painful race and make you seem like just a little bit more of a badass.
     As soon as the crack of the gun registered I was off of the line, headed around the first turn. I felt totally great, but I knew if I took off too fast, I'd burn out. Even dialing it back, though, I had just passed the top girl from Barnesville, putting me into second place. Relax, don't push too fast. It's just adrenaline, the rational side of me interjected. I was torn between running smart and a tempting 100 meter gap between me and the top girl. Competition won. I zeroed in on the girl, dark hair, red jersey, and by the time the third lap started, the gap had been cut to about 15 meters.
Now or never, you're not a sprinter entered my thoughts, and even though the pace was starting to wear on me, I knew I was out of time. I vaguely heard Coach Simms yell something at me, but I was so focused it didn't even register. Rounding into the second straight stretch, rain pounding onto me and the track, I started on a kick. Did my legs feel like Jell-O? Yes, but the rain felt good in the heat, and this was my last shot.
I ran straight past the girl, my strategy being go fast now, she won't think about passing me back up. I was hoping the little kick would buy me some time before I had to start a sprint out.
At the 200 mark, though, she was back on my heels. Neck and neck with her, now, my legs strained but as we hit the 100 mark, I had no choice. No matter how much this hurt, it was going to be over- quickly. I couldn't have told you at any point on that last straight stretch who was going to win the race, but as I staggered across the finish line, it became clear that I had just come in at the top of my heat!
     Still sucking wind, I collapsed into the grass to rest for a minute. Carlie and Layla came over, jumping up and down and hug if me in excitement.
    "Marielle, you're headed into the finals! I think you've got a shot at regionals!" Layla exclaimed.
    "What was my time?!", I said, as my breathing started to return to normal.
    "You're not going to believe this!", Carlie said.
    "What?!" I asked, barely able to contain my energy. It was killing me, but I had stopped wearing my watch in races. The information was good to have, but I had a tendency to get too preoccupied with the numbers instead of feeling the race out.
     "5:45!!!" Layla shrieked.
     "Holy shit, seriously?!", I asked her, bringing my hand up to my mouth, eyes widening in surprise. I knew that this race had been good, but I didn't know it was that good. "That's like 10 seconds faster than my best!"
     "Yup, that's it!" Carlie tossed back. "I've got to go line up! See you in the finals!"
     I was excited- super excited! I still didn't know what had come over me during that race, but I hoped it was permanent! I ran over to where Coach Simms was waiting at the line for the next heat to start.
     "Great job, kid", he said, only widening the beaming smile on my face.
     "Thanks!", I replied back, "definitely the high point of this season so far."
"You pull another time drop like that and you might be headed to state", he told me.
"We'll see about that", I said, laughing. "That about killed me".
"Go rest up for the 32. It's in about a half an hour", he told me.
"Okie doke!", I called over my shoulder.
     I headed over to the fence that lined the track, then, wanting to see how Carlie'a race panned out. She'd beat my time, but I didn't care. That was awesome, and the race between her and Jada was bound to be one for the books.
Carlie started out the race easily, drafting off of the top girl from Martins Ferry, coming in at some solid splits at the first two laps.
"She's gotta gain some ground quick or she's going to get beat", I heard Sammy say as he settled on the fence next to me.
"Oh, she knows what she's doing", I replied back. Carlie was a smart runner with a heck of a sprint. If I knew her, it would come down to the last 100 and she'd make her move there.
"Don't you have something heavy to go toss around?", I teased, sticking my tongue out at him for good measure.
"Nope, already took care of that. Made regionals in the shot and high jump, barely missed it in the pole vault", he replied smugly, flexing his bicep at me with a smirk.
"Well, I'll have you know I just won my heat!" I told him, "and see? Told you she knew what she was doing!"
Carlie had just crossed the finish with a conservative 5:32, both her and Jada hoping to save some energy for the finals, no doubt. Those two, and maybe the top runner from Buckeye Local I knew I couldn't touch, but I knew it was going to be an all out brawl for fourth place.
"Yeah, yeah, lucky guess", he countered, stuffing his chili cheese dog into his mouth. "By the way, I saw that race. You looked good out there."
     What the hell was that supposed to mean? I ran good, or I looked good?
    "I try," I responded, joking around.
I jogged across the field to congratulate Carlie on her win, and we stayed to watch Layla finish up in third place for the 800, qualifying her for regionals, along with Mason. I knew he was going to do well today!
The 3200 went relatively well, landing me in 5th place and Layla in 7th. Although we didn't quite qualify to move on next week, I had managed to take the last spot in the 1600, so at least we had each made it for something. Jada had beat Carlie by just a second, however, and by the time we reached the concession stand for nachos and Dr.Pepper, Carlie was still pretty irritated.
"I had her!", she repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time. "I was so close, and it's like she was just relaxing until she knew she had to sprint!"
"You'll get her next time," Layla reassured her, handing a woman who was apparently "Brayden's Mom" a five dollar bill.
I, on the other hand, was starving! Preoccupied, I reached for one of my nachos turning around to head back to the bus. Too preoccupied, apparently. First, I felt my body collide into something, followed by nacho cheese running down my shirt, and blood rushing to my cheeks. Sammy. I had run headfirst with my nachos into Sammy. Damn it!
"Again with this, Cavalli?", he asked with a glimmer of orneriness in his eyes. "Can't even be trusted with food", he added, shaking his head.
Great, I thought, trip into the cute guy with the insulting humor again...