Starting Position

Chapter 25

Track practice had been exhausting. Rodriguez and Nelson had made the team run drills together with the intention of pushing us harder and faster than we were used to. Up and down the track we went, sprinting, stopping, and sprinting again on repeat. Strangely, I had enjoyed the constant pushing and couldn't remember the last time I had engaged so wholeheartedly in practice.

Once finished, all of us roamed around the track, arms above our heads and panting; I was filled with pride. Even without being timed, I knew I was running faster than I had in a long time, and it felt good. 

Practice let out slightly earlier than normal due to its intensity. With a quick glance at my watch, I realized I could catch the next bus if I hurried, otherwise it would be another hour before I could head home.

Sweaty, but not bothering to care for fear of missing the bus, I hustled towards the parking lot to the bus stop. On route, I spotted Ben, who was placed on the sidewalk a ways from my destination, stretching his taught legs and arms. He was preparing to run home, and, despite my achy legs and lungs, I strode over to him.

"Hi."

"Oh – hey, Elliot. Rough practice."

"Yet, you're still about to make the two-mile run home."

Ben fiddled with his already sweaty shirt, his fingers clumsily pulling the fabric so air fluffed beneath, and said, "It's only two miles."

These words had a profound effect on me. He was right, it was only two miles. With exhaustion setting in, two miles seemed like the distance around the earth, and I could only imagine it felt the same to Ben. I thought back to the beginning of the season, when one lap had nearly finished him off. But it hadn't. He kept going, determined to reach his one mile, and had managed to do so many times over.

Here Ben stood, probably as wiped out from the hour of drills as I was, but still dedicated to running home. It wasn't fair of me to write the two-mile run off on Ben as more difficult for him than me. If anyone had shown me the power in picking yourself up and trying again, it was Ben, who showed up for practice, put the work in - even more than was expected - and succeeded.

So, I found myself in agreement. It was only two miles. And what was two miles to someone who could put their mind to anything and accomplish it?

A mighty wave of inspiration coursed through me, and through the fatigue, I felt like I could do anything in that moment.

"You ready?" I asked, pushing stray, sweaty strands off my face.

Ben's eyes were strong, sharp, and determined as they danced around my features. 

"Whenever you are."

And the two of us took off towards the same route as last time, veering down the forested road. It was the perfect day for a run; pearly white clouds hung in the sky, blocking most of the sun's heat, but it was still warm enough so when a gust of wind blew, it felt refreshing. The evergreens remained still and stately around us as the wind rustled through their branches and needles every so often.

I felt powerful, like I could run forever. The idea of running around the world didn't even sound im. It sounded exciting. My legs didn't ache and my lungs were pumping new life through my body. This was how running was supposed to feel; it was how it used to feel, like I could accomplish whatever lay ahead. I had missed this feeling.

Sooner than expected, we had emerged onto the busy street, which lead us towards Ben's neighborhood. I spotted his pretty blue house instantly, it's white shingles and open front porch like a beacon. In my mind, I had reached the other side of the world.