The Runner.

[Kitosdad]

Why the hell had he let them talk him into this stupid run?.
That was the thought running through the mind of Bill.

He'd been smoking for far too long to have even given the thought of entering this half marathon a seconds consideration. Also the heart attack that had hospitalised him so very recently played heavily on his mind as he plodded along beside the overweight people either side of him.

Maybe it was sheer vanity that was driving him on, or perhaps the memories of yesteryear, ,when running for two hours non-stop at five minutes per mile had seen him finish only slightly winded and sweating.

Whatever it was, he knew that he would never again breast the finishing tape in first place. All he could hope for was to finish in front of a few unfit others.

He had spent weeks slowly building his endurance, and ignoring the gasping coming from his tortured lungs. His legs were still in good shape even after such a long absence from this kind of punishment, and having kept his weight in check was helping him to maintain a steady tempo.

He slowly chanted a song in his mind as he moved along.This had served him well in the old days, but then the song was at a far faster pace than today's monotonous drone.

In earlier times he would let the faster starters lead the way, trailing behind them at a comfortable pace, and he'd wait until they had blown themselves up with their fast start.

Then he would smilingly overtake them and finish the last few miles by overtaking the other speed-merchants who thought it was going to be easy.

He knew it never was easy, and that a runner with a plan was far better than a one without.
But what about today? There was no plan today. Just a burning desire to keep moving over thirteen miles of hard highway.

The rain began just about then.
First it was a gentle fizz, but soon it became heavier.

He was so glad that he had remembered to wear loose-legged shorts.
Some of the newer runners would soon find the chafing of their thighs too much to tolerate, and would probably be reduced to a walk.
This might just give him the chance to gain a few extra places over the competition.

The miles passed slowly and at the ten mile marker he was amazed to find that his breathing, which at the start had almost caused him to withdraw from the race, was now coming smoothly and without effort. His heart had slowed to a steady beat and his stride was steady, as steady as in the old days.

At eleven miles he suddenly realised that the people who had been plodding beside him earlier had disappeared from his sideways glances.
Ahead of him he could see only four others and he wondered if some had already finished.

He could see the grey-haired guy at the front of the four and he lengthened his stride.
Again the gasping began and he felt a slight throbbing of his heart as it responded to the new load being imposed upon it.

At twelve miles he had overtaken two more and only two were ahead of him. Surely he couldn't keep up this pace, but he could, and he did.

Suddenly the number two man seemed to deflate and he came to a staggering halt.
Looking up at Bill he uttered, " Go get him mate," and I suddenly had a terrific burst of adrenalin.

My feet seemed to have mind of their own and in the last five hundred yards I shot past the grey-haired front runner.

I felt alive once more. This is what I had always strived for my whole life.

I was dumbfounded to see before me the unbroken tape fluttering in the wind.
The watchers were cheering and applauding and I felt more alive than I had done for years.
The tears of happiness stung my eyes, and as I reached the tape I stopped.

The crowd went silent.
I walked off the highway and kissed my waiting family. I didn't have to break that tape to prove to myself that I was capable.

They had all seen it, and my reward was the admiration in their eyes.

The grey-haired runner ran by and broke the tape. He looked at me standing there smiling and shook his head in disbelief.

Kitos.
_________________
If you need me, I'm here.

[SkiIucK]

You should seriously consider publishing these.

[Kitosdad]

Thank you Ski for the compliment, but I don't think that they are that good.

Maybe had I started earlier in life, then there might have been a chance to make a few quid out of it, but not now.

But upon reflection, I probably would not have had the experiences to draw on that I have today.

Thanks again,
Bill.
_________________
If you need me, I'm here.