I knew I was prepared. I’d followed the training program religiously. When I’d completed the final long run before the race, I’d felt good, considering I had just run ten miles. Logically, I had every reason to believe I would not only complete this race, but finish with a time I could be proud of.
And yet doubt lingered in my mind. The girl who would have done just about anything to skip gym class in favor of sitting on the sidelines with a book was still inside me. Could I actually do this? Could I run an entire half-marathon?
“Where’s Mr. Calloway? I mean, Shepherd,” Sophie asked Everly. “Is he coming down to watch? Or is there a view of the route from your condo?”
“He’ll be here,” Everly said. “He said he’d see me at the finish line. And I think my sister and her wife are coming, and so are Richard and Dahlia.”
“Are Ethan and Grant running today?” Sophie asked.
Ethan and Grant were Everly’s brother-in-law and his partner. “They are, but they’re so fast, they’re probably starting way up front. Ethan texted me early this morning to wish us all good luck.”
“You’re going to have an entire cheering section,” Nora said with a smile.
“It’s so nice. I love them so much,” Everly said. “Is Jensen still in town?”
Nora dramatically rolled her eyes. “Yes. I made the mistake of telling him about today and he said he’d come watch me finish.”
“That’s sweet of him.”
“I suppose, although he probably has an ulterior motive,” Nora said with a shrug. “But that’s okay, I’ll make him buy us all breakfast after the race.”
“My dad wanted to come but I told him to stay home and just watch the livestream online,” Sophie said. “He doesn’t get around very well these days and he’d probably just yell curse words like a drunken pirate.”
Nora laughed. “Oh my god, your dad is my favorite.”
My friends didn’t ask me if anyone would be waiting for me at the finish line. We all knew there wouldn’t be, so I was glad they didn’t bring it up.
“Well, look at this, they actually showed.” Bella Fernadale’s sneering voice made my back tighten.
The Bedazzled Bitches had never looked so… bedazzled. They wore black baseball caps with gold gems lining the edges and the word Bitches spelled out in pink rhinestones. Gold, silver, and pink gems filled the lettering on their tight tank tops. One of the girls turned to the side and I saw that they even had Bitches bedazzled in sparkly pink and gold across their backsides.
“Nice outfits,” Nora said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “It’s a good thing all those gems are cheap plastic, otherwise the weight of them might interfere with your time.”
“These weren’t cheap,” Drew said, pointing at herself with both hands. “We ordered the rhinestones from a specialty manufacturer.”
“That’s weird, they look exactly like the ones I saw at the Dollar Store the other day,” Sophie said.
“Shut it, Miss Piggy,” Bella said.
Nora lunged for her but Everly and I caught her by the arms. “I swear to god, I will claw out your eyeballs and replace them with those trashy gemstones.”
“It’s okay, Nora, they can’t hurt my feelings,” Sophie said.
I kept my grip on Nora in case she tried to pounce again. Although part of me wanted to let her.
Bella shifted her weight onto one leg and put her hands on her hips. “Whatever. I have to give it to you four, you have balls. What do you think, girls? Can a ditz, a slut, a fatty, and a freak beat us?”
Drew threw her head back with a fake laugh and nudged the other two when they didn’t laugh quickly enough.
Bella laughed, too, dabbing the corners of her eyes. “Oh my god, I’m hilarious.”
I glared at them. “It doesn’t matter who finishes first today. Even if you win, you’ll still be no better than a swarm of mosquitoes. Vicious and small with tiny brains, and at the end of the day, just a passing nuisance.”
She huffed. “You’re so weird. We’ll see you at the finish line. I hope you brought cash.”
They turned with clichéd flips of their hair and sauntered away.
A new sensation spread through me, overtaking my nerves. Resolve. I was going to beat those awful women, even if it killed me.
“I think I need to go back to rage yoga,” Nora said, straightening. Everly and I let go of her and she raised both middle fingers at their backs.
“Nice double fist unicorns,” Sophie said. “They’re the worst.”
“This might not provide much consolation, but their unnecessarily antagonistic behavior indicates a deep dissatisfaction with their own lives.” I crossed my arms. “But I still say we bury them.”
“Oh, we’re going to.” Sophie tightened her ponytail. “I might not be able to walk for a week after this, but I’m winning.”
“It’s a worthy sacrifice,” Everly said. “I’m all in.”
Nora narrowed her eyes and smiled. “Let’s show those bitches what we’re made of.”
* * *
The noise and energy intensified as the last minute before the start ticked down. A huge banner with the Soggy Seattle Half-Marathon logo and the word Start in block letters spanned the street in front of us, and an enormous digital timer awaited the signal. We wore bands on our ankles that would begin recording our time when we ran over mats at the starting line, and they’d stop when we crossed the finish.
The bet would be won or lost by our individual times. We’d set a goal of averaging ten-minute miles. It wasn’t terribly fast, but maintaining that pace over the full thirteen point one miles would be a challenge. I just hoped it would be enough to beat the Bedazzled Bitches.
With ten seconds to start, the crowd started counting down, the loud chant growing. My heart beat rapidly and a renewed rush of nerves made my stomach jumpy. My friends stood on either side of me, leaning forward, wearing matching expressions of fierce determination.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
A sharp bang filled the air and a cheer rose up from the crowd. The competitive runners in front were off, and the rest of us began moving toward the start.
It took a full minute before our section made it to the start banner. We clasped hands as we approached the start line. Our feet hit rubber, our ankle bands activated, and we were off.
As soon as we reached the pavement on the other side of the starting line, my anxiety disappeared. I still felt the buzz of adrenaline flooding my system, but running gave me something to do with all that energy.
The crowd was thick, so we dodged around knots of people, looking for more open space so we could set our pace. I kept an eye on my Fitbit, making sure we didn’t start off too fast. I’d read that one of the common mistakes first-time distance runners made was to push their pace too hard in the beginning. The increased adrenaline and excitement of the race could make you feel unnaturally confident and energetic. But you risked burning out before the end. We were running faster than planned, but we could ease up once we found a more comfortable space among the crowd.
Peacock Man was ahead of us, his fan of feathers bouncing with his stride. It was oddly hypnotic. An elderly man with wispy white hair ran by. The back of his shirt said I’m 85 and I just passed you.
That made me smile.
By the time we reached the first mile marker, the crowd had spread out. The four of us were able to run two by two, me and Nora in front, Everly and Sophie behind us. We’d finished the first mile in under nine minutes. Tempting as it was to push hard now, we still had a long way to go, so I intentionally slowed.
“Now we just do that twelve more times and we’re done,” Nora said. I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not.
“We’ve totally got this,” Everly said. “That first mile felt great. I think that’s a good sign.”
“I feel like I could go faster,” Sophie said.
I glanced at my Fit
bit. “My calculations require sticking to this pace for the next two miles. Then a slower mile. Then three more fast.”
“Are you sure?” Sophie asked.
“It’s still early. We should stick with the plan.”
“Okay, okay,” Sophie said. “We’ll stick with the plan.”
The next two miles seemed to take no time at all. It hadn’t been that long ago that a three-mile run had been a challenge. And here we were, breezing through the route, still feeling like we’d barely begun.
Peacock Man maintained his pace a short distance in front of us. His tail feathers were like a bright teal and purple beacon leading us forward. We didn’t see the Bedazzled Bitches. They’d started ahead of us in a different section of runners. Even if our times were faster, it was unlikely we’d see them before the end.
As planned, we slowed after mile three, then picked up again at mile four. By mile five, Everly and Nora both said they felt good enough to run faster. Again, I insisted we stick with the plan. We needed to maintain enough stamina to finish.
We slowed through a water station and volunteers handed us cups as we jogged by. The water felt good, cool and refreshing. My body was warm and loose. Tired but not yet hitting the point of exhaustion.
And then we came to our first big hill.
We’d known the course wouldn’t be flat. Seattle was full of hills, so we’d trained accordingly. In my last long run, the hill I’d climbed had felt like the side of a mountain. I’d had to walk for several minutes after reaching the top to recover enough to continue running.
But today it was like our shoes were outfitted with the wings of the Greek god Hermes. All four of us bounded up the hill, pushing ourselves hard. Sweat dripped down my back and my leg muscles burned. But I felt powerful and strong.
When we got to the top, I glanced down to check my Fitbit again so we could adjust our pace. We needed recovery time so we could make it through the next section of the race.
“We made that hill our bitch,” Sophie exclaimed.
“Hell yes we did,” Everly said.
“Sophie, you’re right.” I looked up, ignoring the data offered by my watch. “We did make that hill our bitch.”
Nora raised her fist into the air and whooped.
Trust your instincts.
“Forget the plan,” I said. “Are we all feeling good?”
A chorus of yeses rose up around me. Not just from my friends, but from runners nearby.
“Then let’s make this race our bitch.”
I stopped checking my Fitbit and let my body set the pace. We pushed hard for the next mile, energized by our triumph on the hill. Then there was another hill to climb and we naturally slowed. We jogged through a water station, high-fived a group of spectators cheering us on, and picked up the pace again when we saw the sign for mile nine.
The next mile was harder. Peacock Man fell behind us for the first time, and a few of the Sloth Running Club runners passed us. My legs were getting heavy, and as we approached mile ten, the nervous churning in my stomach returned.
Ten miles was the longest I’d ever run. And from here, we still had another three point one to go.
I glanced at my friends. Sophie’s expression was grim but determined. Everly’s cheeks were flushed pink and her skin glistened. Nora’s jaw was set, and she looked straight ahead, as if focused on keeping her feet moving one in front of the other.
“Don’t forget why we’re doing this,” I said in between breaths. “What are we running for?”
Everly smiled. “For the sense of accomplishment.”
“To feel like a badass,” Nora said. “And to kick those bitches’ asses.”
“What are we running for?” I asked again, louder this time.
“To show myself I can,” someone said.
“To finish something big.”
“Because I want to be healthier.”
“So I can drink lots of wine.”
Everyone around us laughed.
“I run because I can,” Sophie said. “My dad can barely walk, but my legs work perfectly. And damn it, I’m going to use them.”
A chorus of cheers rose up.
“What about you, Hazel?” Nora asked, her voice breathy.
“I’m running for all the nerdy girls like me.” I reached up to quickly adjust my glasses. “Because we can be fierce too.”
There were more cheers and high fives. Peacock Man caught up with us and gave me a wink. My legs still felt like my shoes had somehow gotten heavier, and I had to focus on my breathing. But the energy of my friends and the runners surrounding us lifted my spirit. I could do this.
Next thing I knew, we’d passed mile eleven. I’d stopped watching our pace, so I hoped we were still on track.
“A half-marathon is fucking long,” Nora said.
“Keep going,” Everly said. “We’ve got this.”
Mile twelve and my thighs were starting to chafe. My feet felt like lead, my mouth was dry, and it was all I could do to keep moving forward.
We’d been following Peacock Man for the last mile. He veered to the side, and through the sudden gap in the crowd, something shiny caught my eye.
Up ahead, at the crest of a small hill, were the Bedazzled Bitches.
“Look.” I pointed. “We almost caught up with them.”
“Oh my god.”
“Holy shit.”
“Hell. Fucking. Yes.”
We all exchanged glances. Shared a brief nod. And ran like we were being chased by zombie clowns.
It was the most terrifying thing I could think of.
My chest heaved, my lungs burning. Sweat dripped from my temples and I vaguely wondered how much I was going to regret this tomorrow and how long it would take before I could walk again. But I ignored the ache in my legs and the sting of chafed skin, and ran as hard as I could.
We crested the hill, closing in on the nightmares in cheap plastic gemstones. A dull roar filled the air and the spectators cheering from the sidelines thickened. The finish line was up ahead, the huge white banner with red letters stretching across the road.
It didn’t matter if we crossed the finish before them. They’d started the race ahead of us, and we’d almost caught up. Our times would be better than theirs. We’d already won.
But we didn’t just want to win. We wanted to crush them.
The road flattened. Pumping our arms, we ran faster. My shoes struck the pavement, every stride sending a jolt through my body.
Faster.
The Bitches were just ahead of us now. The onlooking crowd shouted encouragement as runners dug deep into their last stores of energy to finish strong.
We broke off into twos, parting around the four Bedazzled Bitches. Sophie and Everly passed on their left, Nora and I on their right. And as if we’d planned the perfect choreography for our moment of triumph, we came together in front of them, looked over our shoulders, and waved.
Turning toward the finish, we clasped hands. Without slowing our pace, we sprinted across the finish line.
Volunteers were there to herd us to the side, making room for the runners behind us. We slowed to a walk, but it felt like everything was chaos around us. Someone put a medal around my neck. Everly collapsed into her husband’s arms, surrounded by her family. Sophie hugged me, then squealed when she saw several of her friends from work holding a Go Sophie sign. Peacock Man walked by, flashing me a thumbs up and a big smile. Jensen had indeed come to greet Nora. He had a water bottle in one hand, a silver flask in the other. She happily took both.
My vision blurred. I took off my glasses and lifted my shirt to wipe the sweat out of my eyes. My heart still beat fast and my legs were beginning to feel wobbly.
But I’d done it. I’d finished. And in this moment, I wasn’t Hazel Kiegen, psychology researcher and girl with a genius IQ. I was Hazel Kiegen, half-marathon runner.
I wasn’t even too terribly sad that I was standing at the finish line alone. My sense of accomplishment was enough.
Mostly.
Even if it wasn’t, I didn’t want to ruin the moment.
“Hazel.”
The voice calling my name didn’t make sense. Before I replaced my glasses, I told myself my blood sugar must be low, and I was probably dehydrated. Because there was no way it was him. He couldn’t be here.
Despite all logic, my foolish heart swelled with hope, and I slid my glasses on.
It was him.
Corban stood, surrounded by exhausted runners celebrating with friends and family, holding a sign. His hair was adorably unkempt and one corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile.
The hope in that foolish, stubborn heart of mine exploded like fireworks.
He closed the distance between us, which was good because I wasn’t sure if I could take another step without collapsing. The hard sprint to the finish and the shock of seeing him here had rendered my legs almost useless.
“You did it,” he said. “I knew you would.”
“You’re here.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Do you like the sign I made?”
“Oh.” I adjusted my glasses. I was so surprised to see him, I hadn’t even read it.
I blinked and narrowed my eyes.
Adjusted my glasses again.
Blinked a few more times because the words on the sign brought a rush of tears to my eyes.
The poster board in his hands read I love you, Hazel, in large handwritten letters. In the corner, he’d drawn two penguins facing each other, their heads bowed, beaks touching, the shape of their bodies forming a heart.
And one of the penguins wore a race number, just like me.
39
Corban
“Love is the most powerful form of energy, but science cannot decipher its elements. Yet the best cure for a sick soul is love, but even the most advanced physician cannot prescribe it as medicine.” ~ Suzy Kassem
For a second, it felt like my heart stopped.
I held the sign, watching Hazel’s eyes flit back and forth, as if she were reading it repeatedly. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and the dread of potential rejection nearly took the air out of my lungs.
Love According to Science Page 29