Page 29 of Get Me to the Starting Line
She laughs, but there’s tension in it. I thought it was a light comment, but she seems weighted down.
“No, just the one.” The defeat in her tone is so confusing.
“What’s wrong?” I ask the question without thinking, wanting to smooth the crease that’s formed between her brows as she slows to a walk.
“How long was that?” she asks, trying to change the subject. I know how it feels to not want to talk, so I let it go and check my watch.
“Leah, that was twelve minutes.” Her name feels musical as it dances off my tongue, unbidden. Leah stops dead in her tracks and looks at me.
“Are you serious?” Gone is the weight of the previous conversation, joy filling her face.
“Always.” I don’t lie to people. To myself? Yes. But not to others.
“Oh my god, I’m going to be able to do it,” she says, almost to herself.
“Of course.”
She whips her head towards me. “Why did you say ‘of course’? Two weeks ago I couldn’t even run for a minute. I had no idea I’d be able to get this far.”
I shrug. “In two weeks, you’ll be able to run twentyminutes.”
There’s a long pause where we merely look at each other. I can see the wheels turning in her head, the joy still lighting her eyes. She genuinely thought she wouldn’t be able to do it.
“Thank you,” she blurts out.
“What?”
She clears her throat. “I ran that long today because of you.”
“You did it yourself.” She’s shaking her head before I’ve even finished speaking.
“No, it’s because you were here.”
“I’m a distraction.” Why can’t I take her praise? I should be greedy for it, but there’s something about her I feel could benefit from a little less self-doubt.
“Yes, you are,” she says quietly.
I have no idea what she means by that.
“You weren’t focusing on the running,” I say, redirecting the conversation.
“I guess I wasn’t. Huh. Why did that make it easier?” She appears genuinely surprised when she realizes it, probably tracing her thoughts back.
“Running is a mental sport.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your sister runs ultras, and yes, she’s fit, but it’s not enough. She’s trained her mental strength, pushing through the limits we automatically put on ourselves. You thought you couldn’t run more than a minute at first, so you didn’t. It’s all about proving to your mind, to yourself, you’re capable of more.” She has the oddest expression on her face. “What?”
“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you speak.”
Heat climbs up the back of my neck. “I d-don’t like talking.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“You have?” I kick myself for sounding too eager.
“Yes.”
