time to make sure I wasn’t totally out of shape, but as the date neared for the training group to start, I worried about who I’d find when I went. Would everyone there be seasoned athletes? Would they already run every single day, and would I feel woefully behind and out of shape? Would I embarrass myself? Had they all run marathons before, and would they laugh at me for wanting to start big without ever having run so much as a 5K in the past?
In the end, I’d managed to swallow my pride—and my fears—and arrived at the first session early one Saturday morning jittery but excited. The group met twice a week at a store that sold running shoes and apparel, and from there, I’d read, they’d head to a nearby park to do drills and interval trainings followed by a run, longer on Saturday, shorter on Tuesday mornings.
“Welcome!” the group leader, Ada, said. She was a trim woman in her forties with a light brown ponytail that bounced as she talked. “I see a lot of new faces today, and that’s fantastic. Many people find that training for a marathon can be cleansing in many other areas of their lives, so you’re making a big step today by committing to go through this training. First off, let me tell you a little about my own journey….”
My eyes wandered around the room as Ada talked. I was surprised at the variety of people she saw around her, though the group was only about fifteen people. Some looked to be around my age or even younger, while one couple was probably in their sixties.
One guy caught my eye. He was tall and looked healthy and fit. His thick brown hair was long enough to tuck behind his ears, and it curled slightly in an unruly way—the kind of hair that every woman dreamed of, unless they had it. I ran my fingers through my own fine blonde hair.
He sure was cute. He was watching Ada intently as she spoke, and I wondered whether he was really into running or just really into her. He smiled when she made a joke, and I couldn’t seem to pull my eyes away. That smile was electric. Even across the room, even though it wasn’t aimed at me, I couldn’t help but smile too just seeing his smile.
After the introduction, Ada explained how the class would work, and then everyone headed outside to the park to do start the training.
The training was hard, and the sprints were harder. I had a moment of doubt—everyone else, while not the star athletes I’d feared they’d be, did seem to be in better shape than I was.
But then I remembered The Rules, as I’d come to think of them, and began running harder. I could do this. I could get up to speed, no matter how hard it was. I could make new friends, turn running into something I loved, lose weight, complete a marathon. I could get my life back on track.
After doing drills for half an hour, the group started a longer run. This was the part I was most nervous about. Everyone ran together, and if I wasn’t able to keep up, it would be obvious. We started out on a trail through the park, Ada leading the way, and soon the cute boy with the unruly hair fell into step beside me. I smiled to myself when I noticed the way his hair bounced around frantically as he ran.
He flashed me the gorgeous smile I’d noticed earlier, then glanced back to make sure no one was following him too closely before saying, “Watch this.” Without breaking stride he went from running into a perfect cartwheel, then landed back on his feet and kept running.
I laughed in surprise. Something about the continuity of the motion reminded me of the way the dog had licked my hand and then gone straight back to chewing on leaves when I had first encountered him.
“That was very impressive,” I said as he fell back into stride beside me. Show-off , I thought, but with affection. I wondered how the dog was doing, not for the first time since their encounter. It had been two weeks now since that day. Surely he was back home by now. At any rate, I hadn’t