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We collected our kit from the minibus and went into our allocated changing room to get changed. Of necessity we had to share the room with several other teams. As soon as we entered, boys from the other teams stopped to look at us, and then at me in particular. And then the whispers started:

“That guy’s gay.”

“I bet he runs in the pack so he can watch the asses of the guys in front.”

“Don’t bend down in the shower afterwards.”

I was still mildly annoyed that Eugenie Butler-Walker hadn’t stood up for me, and the continuous stream of taunts wound me up even further. They hurt even more because running in the pack was my normal strategy. I resolved to try to get ahead of the pack so nobody could accuse me of watching their asses.

Taking his captain’s role seriously, Corwin Baylee herded us outside after we had finished getting changed and spoke some words of encouragement, but I was fuming so much that I didn’t hear them. Somehow, in my funk, I got split up from the rest of the team and chose a place far out to one side on the starting line. Even there it was crowded, because of the one hundred and eighty runners scheduled to take part.

To my chagrin, the sun had chosen to put in appearance while we were changing. The warm day was rapidly becoming hot. Yet another thing to wind me up.

The starting pistol sounded and we were off. The sprinters raced across the school field. I wasn’t even going to try to match them. Then came the fast runners. I started running at the pace I had ran the previous Monday when I was also working off my frustrations. I reached the other side of the school field at the tail end of the fast runners and ahead of the pack.

The first side of the squarish course contained a gentle decline. The going was easy and I continued comfortably despite running at what for me was a faster than usual pace. One or two runners overtook me but I slowly pulled away from the pack. I was in good shape when I reached the first corner and received acknowledgement from the marshal.

The second side of the square contained a long, gentle incline. I tried to maintain my pace and actually overtook a few runners on the way, but I was really grateful when it levelled off because I was sweating profusely, my lungs were bursting and I was starting to struggle. I remembered Coach Budd’s advice to keep something in reserve for the last incline and realised I could be in trouble.

I received an acknowledgement from the marshal and set off on the third side. I kept to my fast pace even though I was hurting because I had something of a rhythm and I reckoned slowing down wouldn’t make me hurt any less. I vaguely noticed overtaking one or two runners but I was concentrating so hard on the pain that I barely noticed other runners, except for an awareness that I was still ahead of the pack.

The fourth side of the square started with a steep decline. The going was rutted and I had to concentrate on my footing so I didn’t trip over. Concentrating on something other than the pain seemed to help and by the time the course levelled off, I was into my second wind. Then it suddenly struck me - I couldn’t remember having received an acknowledgement from the marshal at the last corner. In fact I couldn’t remember seeing a marshal at all. I had a mild panic attack. I couldn’t go back: it would eat up so much time and energy that I’d probably come in last and at a walk. I decided my least worst option was to finish as well as I could then wonder about what might have been.

The last stretch back up to the school was a steep incline, in as poor a shape as the previous decline. Despite knowing it was suicidal, I kept running at my fast pace. I was conscious of passing several runners, some of whom had been reduced to walking. The lung-bursting pain came back with a vengeance but, just as I thought it was getting too much and I’d have to slow to a walk, I saw the school in the distance through my blurring vision. Needing to concentrate on my footing, I didn’t dare to look back to check on the whereabouts of the pack so I forced myself to press on, spurred on by my desire to keep ahead of them. Somehow I managed to haul myself up the rest of the slope, and from there I struggled across the school field to the finish line, vaguely aware of some cheers from spectators as I passed.

After the finish line, I staggered on until I reached a quiet spot away from the crowds. I collapsed onto all fours and dry-heaved until my whole stomach lining felt sore. Then I rolled over on my back and took short, shallow breaths until the pain in my lungs eased and my vision cleared.

I got up and headed to the changing rooms, hoping to shower and change before the throng arrived in order to avoid any more comments about not bending over in the shower, but the door was locked. That made sense, it was to help keep our clothes and possessions safe, but it was frustrating. There was nothing for it but to head back and seek out the rest of my team to face the music.

A man in a marshal’s bib saw me and asked, “Are you number one three six?”

That was a really dumb question because my number was showing as clear as daylight. “Yes, that’s me.”

“I think you’re wanted in the Admin Tent,” he said.

I wasn’t too surprised. I’d pretty much convinced myself that I was going to be disqualified. I wandered over to the Admin Tent and approached one of the administrators. “Hi, I’m number one three six,” I said, my voice huskier than normal. “Someone said you were looking for me.”

She checked off my number. “Oh yes, that’s right. They’re about to start the presentations for your race.”

“Was everything okay? I don’t remember getting an acknowledgement from the third checkpoint marshal.”

“Let me check ... Yes, she saw you okay. You were checked off at all three checkpoints.”

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03.06.2021
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We have a little situation here that is so funny, but things soon change. I want to try to explain some things that have been going on and you may get a good laugh our of it, but it's getting to where it's no laughing matter now.We have a16 year old nephew that has been practicing hypnosis for a few months now and he has not been doing very well with it. He sometimes uses my wife, Rena, as his practice subject and it has never worked and she is feeling sorry for him. A couple weeks ago, I told...

Recycled Lingerie Ch 01

I’m a widower. I lost my loving wife, Joyce, almost fifteen months ago. I was devastated. She was only diagnosed three months before she died, and such a sudden loss weighed heavy on my heart. For a couple of months, I didn’t do much beyond going to work and coming home to sit in an empty house before going to an empty bed. I even had trouble reading the Sunday paper because we used to read it together in the morning and then do the crossword puzzle over lunch. I’m 44, about six-foot-two and...

Carol tells a story4

My husband had to go away for the weekend. I wanted to do something special for him, since before he got back I had to go out of town myself. Last week we had put a pool table down in the basement after I finally finished painting it and putting the bar in. I went down to see what the bar needed and called a few friends, telling them I had the house to myself for the weekend and didn't feel like being alone. Deanna and Belldonn agreed to come and stay in the master bedroom for the weekend; they...

A huge black stripper for birthday

Helena’s birthday party was in full swing; everyone was dancing and having fun and cocktails.My husband came up behind me, rubbing his hard cock against my ass. "Having fun?" He asked me and I replied I was waiting for the main course: a birthday present that Jorge, Helena’s husband, had promised to her.Victor asked what was so funny about a birthday present…"Be patient, honey… you will see…” I whispered in his ear…Suddenly the door bell rang and Helena went to check who was there.She opened...

Mere Husband Ke Dost Ke Sath Chudai

Mera nam nilu he or me kahi rehti hu meri sadi ko 2 sal ho gaye he mera figer 38 he mere boobs bohat bade he mere hubby ka loda bohat chota he vo muje stisfy nahi ker sakte the jub hum apne naye ger me move huve to vaha ke ariya me bohat sare srilankan he un me se hi ek mere hubby ka bohat acha dost ban gaya tha vo roj ger pe ata tha ek din vo aaya mere hubby ger pe nahi the to vo muj se beth ke bate ker ne laga bato bato me usne muje bola me bohat khub surat hu or mera figer bohat acha...

Joys Birth

It was Don Taylor's last day before he began his family leave, and it couldn't end soon enough. It seemed that every time he turned around, his boss and good friend, Jason Blackwell, was giving him, 'Just one more thing.' He had the program installed into his office computer and the computer at home to allow him access to his work files should he need them, and had copied all of his important files onto several flash drives. In Don's mind, the day seemed to just drag on, and his thoughts...

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