Chapter 5: 5. The Confusion of the Long Distance Runner

The day after running the Harrier, I was called to the main office of the school. I wasn’t sure what that was all about because I had never even had so much as an overdue library book. I thought maybe it was related to my fake illness the previous Friday but the school didn’t know I was faking. My Mother was the one who had phoned in my absence. Surely they had trusted her?
At the main office, I was directed to the Vice-Principal’s office. The door had Mr. Russell’s name and his title. I had seen him around and he spoke in some assemblies but I had never had a face-to-face with him before. I knocked and entered as I had been told to do.

“Jeff Carter?” Mr. Russell inquired.

“Yes sir,” I replied with a mouth as dry as the Sahara. What was this all about?  

“Did you run the Harrier yesterday?” he asked.

“Yes sir, I did. I had signed up and they wrote my name down at the end. Is this what this is about? I didn’t skip. I was there, you can check.” I was sure that something had been fouled somewhere and I had been marked as absent and now they were checking up on me.

“No, no, nothing of the sort,” he reassured me. “Sit down,” he continued and pointed at a chair opposite his desk.

“Oh okay,” I stammered and then took the seat. “I was there but there wasn’t any trouble. Did someone say I did something?”

“No, no,” he said again. “I just want to congratulate you on your tenth-place finish.”

“Thank you?” I said but it came out more as a question. Is this what normally happened when you finished at the top in the Harrier? You get pulled out of class just to be congratulated by the Vice Principal? It seemed like a gesture of excess to me.

“You’re probably confused. Let me explain,” he went on. “I’m not only the Vice Principal but I coach the track and field team as well…specifically the boys running team. We host the Harrier every year to try and find new blood for the team. We’ve got a number of our senior boys graduating in a couple of months and we need to start building a team for next fall. Your tenth-place finish caught our attention. What would you think about trying out for the team?

So that was it. Finishing tenth not only got me next to Pippa but it put me on the radar of the Vice Principal/Coach.

“I’ve never given it much thought. If you check previous years, I finished seventy-fifth in grades nine and ten. I’m not sure I’m cut out for long distance running.” I didn’t want to have to explain that my top ten finish was the result of me chasing after a female student in his school.

“We know about your previous finishes. We keep it on file. We have to keep track of students who run the race and those who say they did and skipped off somewhere else. Give it some thought.” He paused for a moment to see if he could determine if I was seriously considering the opportunity. He obviously didn’t care what my motivation had been for running so hard in the Harrier.  

“I’ll think on it,” I replied. I really wasn’t going to think on it. As far as I was concerned I was done with the Harrier and running in general. My tenth-place finish seemed like a cheat because I really hadn’t run the race for the sport of it. I would have been just as happy to have finished seventy-fifth.

“I’m holding a try-out tomorrow after school. I hope I’ll see you there.” I think he sensed that I wasn’t as invested as he was. Damn, I thought at that moment, I’m going to have to show up to that practice just to see the expression change on his smug face when he’d seen he’d pegged me wrong.

“I’ll be there sir,” I stated with as much enthusiasm as I thought that both of us could stand.

“Call me Coach,” he replied, “if you show up. If not, then it’s Mr. Russell.”

“Okay.” I didn’t address him either way. I quickly let myself out and cursed him and the Harrier under my breath. Maybe I should have cursed Pippa too. I held that in reserve in case I needed it for after our talk on Saturday.

I didn’t see much of Pippa over the next couple of days. We were in the regular classes together but she seemed preoccupied and I didn’t want to push her. She had given me a time and date and place and it was clear she was in control.

I had thought about telling her about my meeting with Mr. Russell. I was wondering if her ninth-place visit had afforded her a conversation with the coach of the girls track team whoever that was. How would I have explained that I was considering attending the try-out because I wanted to show up the Vice-Principal? Pride is a great motivator but I didn’t think it was warranted in my case.

Friday afternoon had cooled off and was cloudy. I remember there being a hint of rain in the air. I remember it clearly because I had dressed in shorts for the track meet-up and when I arrived, everyone else, including Mr. Russell, were wearing track pants. I had underestimated the forecast.

Let me be clear about my athletic prowess back then…I had none. Gym class was compulsory in the first two years of high school so I was glad not to include it as an elective in grade eleven. Maybe I should also be clear it wasn’t that I didn’t possess athletic skills but rather I didn’t have athletic inclination of any kind. At our school, there were jocks and brainers and I fell squarely in the middle. It was easier keeping your head down and not belonging. No one wanted to take a poke at a person in the middle and no one usually teased you for excelling athletically or academically. Of course, having my face slapped proved I had strayed outside my lane of comfort and that was something that still needed to be addressed or remedied. That would depend on Saturday and Pippa.

There were eight of us altogether who met Friday afternoon at the school track. It was a quarter-mile track located out back and past the parking lot. Clearly we eight had been selected from the top finishers of the Harrier but I recognized I had passed some of the others along the route. Perhaps the Coach selected from the top fifteen or top twenty. It was obvious that Mr. Russell was hedging his bet that expanding his selection might yield him some likely new candidates.

“When I call your name, call out. I need to record who’s here,” Mr. Russell began.

I was the second name he called alphabetically and I’m sure there was a note of surprise when I chirped out “here.”

After the roll call, Mr. Russell strolled over to the track and called out the first four names on his list. “You four, line up side-by-side, here in front of me.”

I jostled with the others and ended up in the middle. I wanted the outside or the inside because I didn’t trust anyone to cross into my lane or elbow me as we ran.

“Okay,” he continued, “this is a quarter-mile track. We’re not going to run a full mile today. I want you to pace yourself and run two laps around the track. I’m not looking for speed. Long distance sprinting is the goal here. I just want you to complete the run. Show me what you’ve got. I’ll count you down. On your mark, get set, GO!”

When Russell had said ‘on your mark’ I wasn’t sure if I should crouch like I had seen athletes do on television or remain standing upright. When I saw no movement to the left or right of me suggesting anyone else crouching, I remained standing but on the ready. When he shouted out “GO!” we all lunged ahead. I had no desire to run the race but I also wanted to finish the race so I could show Russell I could do it and maybe upset him when I would tell him I wasn’t interested in joining the team after all.

Two of the other boys started to pull ahead and soon the remaining runner and I fell in close to each other. I didn’t really put in much effort but I also didn’t want to come in last. I came in last. Rounding the last corner of the second lap, the runner next to me doubled down and pulled ahead of me. He managed to catch up with the guy who was running in second and nudged him out as they ran past Mr. Russell. I wasn’t impressed. Let this guy show off if he wants, I thought. I wasn’t there for that. Russell could take his pick of the others. I was a middle man. I didn’t need to excel.

I did a slow walk around to cool off while Mr. Russell called for the remaining four to line up. When they were off around the track, Russell came up to me.

“Carter, why are you here?” I sensed condescension in his voice.

“Because you asked me to come out,” I replied. I thought the truth was probably my best answer and it showed my condescension for him.

“I know that,” he responded rather commonly for someone I was trying to insult. “But why did you come out? I didn’t expect you would. Still, you came in tenth in the Harrier so I expected you’d show me more.”

I thought I had shown him everything I wanted to show him. I had shown up after he had expected me not to and then I had completed the half-mile run when he probably had thought I’d quit before the end. I didn’t think I owed him any other explanation.

“I guess this isn’t for me, Mr. Russell.” There was no sense in calling him Coach if I wasn’t going to stick around.

“Tell me one thing, Carter, how did you come in tenth in the Harrier? We both know you finished seventy-fifth in previous years. How did you finish so much higher in the rankings? Did you cheat? Did you take a shortcut?”

Now I was mad. He hadn’t expected much from me and now he was accusing me of cheating.

“No, I didn’t cheat” I exclaimed loudly. “Ask some of these other guys, I passed them by. I earned that tenth-place finish!”

“But how?” he questioned.

“Because I was chasing a girl!” I yelled.

Russell looked me over and then stepped back as if to size me up. “That’s a new one on me, Carter. Guys run for lots of reasons and sometimes it’s to impress a girl but never to chase a girl. Tell me, did you catch her?”

I let out a little laugh. “Not yet, sir, I’m still running that race.”

Russell chuckled too. “Okay Carter, now we know your motivation. Why don’t you channel that into your running?”

“I’m not sure I want to continue running,” I answered frankly.

“Your call, but do me one more favour. Run the track again. Just one lap. I’ll have Dawkins who finished first in your group run with you.”

“Okay,” I replied hesitantly, “but don’t expect much.”

“Remember this time, Carter, you’re not running a race, you’re chasing that girl.” I thought that was an odd way to motivate me. Russell went over and spoke with Dawkins.

After the second group of four finished their two laps, Dawkins and I lined up. I had caught my breath by then and was about as ready to run again as I ever would. Mr. Russell started his prep lead in and then Dawkins and I took off. Immediately Dawkins pulled ahead.

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“Chase that girl,” I heard Russell yell at me. Again, I thought that was an odd motivation but I thought why not use it. I pretended that Dawkins was Pippa and that I was angry and frustrated for her making me run. It wasn’t very hard to imagine that. I was still angry with Pippa and lately, I was constantly frustrated. 

I closed the gap with Dawkins around the last turn and soon I passed him. I was picturing racing side by side with Pippa and my only thought was Pippa’s passing and I have to catch her. When I reached where Mr. Russell was standing, I kept on running. I kept up the same pace and completed a second lap and kept on running. I thought maybe Russell would shout at me to stop but he didn’t. I completed a third and fourth lap to complete the mile. My lungs were burning and I thought my heart would leap out of my chest. My legs were on fire and even though I had on shorts, I didn’t feel the cold. I walked a few circles to try and slow my heart rate. I saw Russell watching me and then writing something down on his clipboard.

“Not bad Carter, I’ve seen the mile run faster but not by much.” There was no smugness on his face.

“Thanks, Coach,” I panted.

“Coach eh?” he commented. “Does that mean you’re sticking around?”

“Like I said Coach, I’m still running a marathon after that girl. I need all the training I can get.”

Coach laughed and then told us the school was still open and to hit the showers. “Regular practice starts Monday after school.”

I skipped showering at the school and grabbed up my backpack and ran all the way home. My thoughts were of Pippa and what tomorrow would bring. I was running to keep up with her. Would it work? When I got home, I took a cold shower.

On Saturday I walked to the school because I wanted to run the track again. I wasn’t trying to prove anything to myself but I wanted to work out some of my frustrations before I went to Pippa’s house. I had worn my shorts again and carried a backpack with street clothes to change into. 

When I got to the track I could see it wasn’t empty. There was one solitary figure sprinting around the track. As I got closer, I recognized Dawkins from the previous day. I didn’t know him very well. I was sure he was in one of the junior grades because he was in none of my classes. It might have been his first year for all I knew.

Dawkins gave me a slight wave as he pulled around the last corner. When he came even with me, he stopped.

“Good run yesterday,” he greeted me as he jogged in place. “How did you finish in the Harrier?”

“Tenth,” I replied. I didn’t remember passing him in that race but admittedly my focus had been elsewhere.

“Sixth,” he stated without any sense of bragging.

“Jeff Carter,” I said, offering my hand. “Was this your first year running the Harrier?”

“Ben Dawkins,” he responded taking up my hand. “First time with the Harrier but I’ve done some running before. I used to run at my old school but not competitively.”

“Oh, is this your first year at this school too?” I asked.

“Too?” He looked confused. “I didn’t know you were new here.”

“No, not me,” I explained. “My friend is new here as well. She came from another school.”

“Who’s that? What school did she go to?”

“Pippa Bailey. I’m not sure where she went last year. She’s never mentioned it. She ran the Harrier with me and came in ninth.”

“Did you let her win?”

“Not deliberately. I’m still working that out.” I was trying to protect my pride. I didn’t want to have to explain too much.

“Wait, did you say, Pippa Bailey? Yeah, I know her. At least I know of her. She was at my school last year. She’s a year ahead of me. Pretty, blonde hair, sing-song sort of voice?” I was surprised to hear he had picked up on those qualities. Those were words I would have used to describe her.

“That’s her. Did you know her well?” I asked.

“You two an item?” he responded by answering my question with a question of his own.

“No, well right now I’m not sure. It’s complicated.” I couldn’t believe the ease with which I was sharing these things with Dawkins.

“Like I said, I know of her. That’s about it.” Dawkins seemed genuine and I didn’t think there was any more that he knew that he might be holding back. Still, I had to know.

“Any inside information you’d care to share? I’m meeting up with her this afternoon.” I was wondering if he had more he could share if he was inclined.

“Only saw her around the school. Sometimes she’d have a group of other kids around her and other times she’d be by herself.

She gave a speech once about Elvis in public speaking in front of the school. I think she won an award. That’s about it.”

“Brides of Elvis,” I found myself muttering aloud.

“What’s that?” Dawkins asked.  

“It’s nothing. It’s just something she said to me about Elvis once.” I didn’t feel I needed to share more than that.

“Want to race? You gave me a good run yesterday.” He was being friendly but I was sensing a competitive spirit.

“No thanks, I just want to run for the sake of running today.” I wasn’t feeling a need for some sort of rematch.

“Mind if I run alongside of you?” he went on. “It would be nice just to have a running partner.”

“Sure, why not,” I found myself conceding. “Just a couple times around though.”

“Not the full mile?” he asked. “Say, what was that all about yesterday when you beat me out but kept running additional laps?

“Like I said, it’s complicated, “I replied. “I was trying to work some things out. I’d never run like that before. I guess I was trying to prove something to myself.”

“The track’s a good place to clear your head. Mine’s empty most of the time but you’d be surprised what goes through your head when you’re running.”

Ben was a really nice guy. There didn’t seem to be anything complex to him. I hadn’t met anyone so easy to talk to at first go. Pippa was hard work sometimes and my brother Rod could be a jerk. I hadn’t had too many other close people of my own age since I had started high school. I hadn’t realized how lonely it was in the middle.

“After you,” Ben gestured.

We both set off at a steady pace and kept even. I sensed he could leave me behind if he wanted to and there was that thought playing in my mind of trying to best him again. Neither of us acted on it. We just ran in silence but kept each other in our side vision.

When we’d run two laps, we both started walking an extra lap to try and condition ourselves to easing off slowly.

“Good run,” Ben said. “Want to run again, tomorrow?”

“Sure, why not,” I said. I was becoming comfortable with Ben. My thought was there was more than one perk to this running thing. I could work out my frustrations and maybe make a new friend or at least have a listening ear.

After Ben left, I ducked behind some trees and put on long pants. If I was going to keep up this running thing then I’d have to invest in some sweats for those cooler temperatures. I’d have to ask my parents for some money but I knew that meant I would have to explain to them I’d joined the track team. I knew they’d be proud but I also wondered what Rod would say. I quickly dismissed that thought. I had somewhere else to be.

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