Chapter 8: Time to Run

Like in every other race in her lifetime, Jill’s mind automatically went into race mode.

As if by nature, she thought only of moving forward, gliding through the course, and of maybe even passing the runners in front of her.

Whenever she started a race, no matter the size nor the distance, Jill had a tendency to start near the middle of the pack, maybe even a little bit behind that pack.

She saw herself as a slow starter. Her first mile was usually significantly slower than her others. Sometimes, though, her starting position was a large reason for this as she would find herself weaving in and out of packs of slower runners or even walkers to had started too soon in the bunch.

Unconsciously, this also helped with her ego – with time, she was able to start passing other runners. Rarely after the first mile was she ever passed.

Passing those other runners gave her a large amount of satisfaction, stroking her running ego. It was one of those things she enjoyed about races, but rarely ever admitted.

Today, the other runners had a five minute plus advantage over her. She would not catch them within the first mile, most likely. She also knew that she most likely had two plus months to catch them.

The thrill of the start going now, Jill broke into a more casual pace, the pace she wanted. She had a long way to go. No need tearing herself apart at the start.

Already, her mind began to wander.

She imagined herself passing the other runners, her eyes already darting ahead in the woods for any other sign of another runner. She saw none, but that only kept her moving forward.

The cool morning air felt great against her bare skin, the bits of sunshine raying through the trees touching her skin with a loving sensation.

Every once in a while, she would see the course guide painted on the ground, a pair of pink running shoes painted in various places, especially where the trail cut off into another direction. Every once in a while, she would come across a port-a-pot, letting her know she was on the right path.

However, Jill also knew that there were many correct paths in this course, that there were multiple trails and roads one could take to reach the end. With her talks with Mallory, she found that exploration was urged.

Mallory told Jill of runners who had run the event for more than a decade, some who had taken a different path each year.

Pictures of the other runners she saw on the website again filtered through her mind, profile pictures and sex shots and poses and running pictures.

Jill came across a bench, sitting at the side of the path. She smiled slightly to herself. Stopping for a little bit could not hurt.

She sat down, brushing her fingers over her bare nipples. They were already stiff, helped by the cool morning breeze meeting her own sweat.

With a small smile, she moved her hand between her legs, looking from side to side. She only heard the sounds of nature and the quiet drone of a distant airplane.

She shifted slightly, then spread her legs a bit wider, spreading her lips to meet the cool morning breeze. It sent a shiver through her body.

With a soft sigh, Jill slide a finger inside of herself, then another. As she suspected, she was very wet. Running naked had been a sexual thrill to her, heightened with the knowledge that there were more than 100 other runners out there, also naked.

Pictures of some of them filtered through her mind as she played with herself.

Mid stroke, she stopped. She would have more opportune times for this, like at the end of the day.

She stood and broke into her steady running pace.