Insidious(19)

Gleeson grinned. “Nope, you’ll be running the track. The mile, actually.”

Everyone groaned.

“Isn’t that a safety hazard? Someone could slip out there.”

“Yes, and by sitting here, all your stationary limbs could start tingling from poor blood circulation, and who knows what kind of horrible residual aftereffects you may suffer from?” Coach cracked. “Up, people!”

We all moaned again as we followed his instructions.

“Perfect,” I muttered. “Nothing better than lots of cardio to help make me feel better.”

“You know, I’ve come to find that rigorous bouts of exercise can be a great way to work off stress,” laughed Carly devilishly, helping me to my feet.

“Oh, yes, I can only imagine how deeply therapeutic ‘exercising’ with you must be,” I chuckled, shoving her.

“Yow! Get your mind outta the gutter there, tomcat,” she teased.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I laughed. “You weren’t implying an overtone of sorts there?”

“Race me.”

“What?”

“On the track,” Carly clarified. “I want to see some of that gumption of yours, and it just might be what the doctor ordered. Nothing helps me feel better than a good endorphin rush.”

She had a point, and she knew my inner overachiever couldn’t stand the thought of losing.

Everyone started filing out of the side exit, and an unexpected burst of adrenalin hit.

“Prepare to lose,” I challenged, shaking her hand.

“You honestly think you can beat me?” She was one of the top runners on the track team, but I was nevertheless pretty fast myself, though I’d never run competitively.

“I’m saying I’m gonna mop the track with you when I’m done,” I said heartily.

“What’s this now?” asked Daniel, catching up with us.

“Your girlfriend here is gonna give some therapeutic relief via me crushing her ego on the track,” I declared.

“Take it easy there, Prefontaine,” laughed Carly.

Taking the gravel road out to the track, Car and I pushed our way through the pack of classmates to the front of the line.

“You wanna place a wager on this?” asked Daniel.

“I’d say it’s best not to.”

“Oh? Someone’s confidence wavering?” he remarked.

“No, I just doubt Carly’s ability to play by the rules,” I said, stretching out. “Wouldn’t want to put any real stakes on the table, only for her to pull a Rosie Ruiz on me.”

“Hey, running is one thing I’d never have to resort to cheating on,” she corrected.

“Yes, because I imagine fleeing from your nightly conquests must require considerable speed and strong endurance,” I whispered jokingly to her.

“Your mouth certainly doesn’t seem to tire easily, but the question is, can your feet keep up?” Carly laughed as the two of us prepared for Coach to commence the race.

“Remember, four full laps. And I will be keeping track, so don’t even bother trying to pull anything, okay?” warned Gleeson. “On your mark… Get set…” He hesitated, seeing the two of us overly eager for him to call it. “Go!”

Carly and I both rocketed off down the stretch and neither of us lost pace over the course of our trek. My muscles were on fire, the strangely humid air posing no help in letting the sweat perforating my skin to evaporate. The two of us kept in stride with one another, but on the final lap, an adrenalin rush exploded within my veins. I managed to sneak my way into the inner lane, rounding the first turn sharply. My legs propelled me faster and faster, and I heard Carly’s footsteps fading behind me. I plowed through the packs of people in front of me who were still on their third lap, and my pace didn’t relent. If anything, it felt like I was gaining momentum.

I finally raced past the finish line where Coach was standing on the grass field inside the track’s perimeter. Decelerating gradually, I finally came to a halt and trotted back over to Gleeson to clock in my completion. Something foreign inside me clawed desperately for me to keep running, soaking up the high from my endorphin rush.

“I’ve got a question for you,” said Coach as I approached. “Why in good health aren’t you on the track team?”

“What was my time?”

“5:24.”

“What?” Carly exclaimed, just now passing the finish line.

“Cue some ‘Eye of the Tiger,’” I declared, jogging in place and throwing up my burning arms Rocky-style. “’Cause I’d call that the sweet taste of victory.”

“Yeah, by a long shot,” she huffed exhausted. “How the hell did you do that? You made me look like a grandma out there.”