Chapter 65

“Brahman and I are buddies.”
—Stephen Beam, Galaxy Riff

LIVY WASN’T UP TO RUNNING Sunday morning, so I called Nanette and she said I could come with her. She reminded me to bring water because it would be a long run. I grabbed a bottle and a couple of energy bars and went out to hop in her car when she pulled up at seven. Even Nanette sleeps in on Sunday.

“Congratulations on the run yesterday,” she said by way of greeting. “I’m surprised you are placing so high with a seven-minute mile but I’m glad you are running and healthy.”

“Jock warned me that would probably be the last time I place this year. When we move to sectionals, we pick up some other runners who haven’t always been on our team. The football backfield and ends will do time trials this week and so will the soccer guys. Some of them are well under a six-minute mile in the 5k. I guess a lot of other schools are like that. Livy will face some new challengers from volleyball as well. I don’t think any will touch her in the race, though.”

“We’re going to take a long run today. I’ll show you the cutoff where you can head back and I’ll give you the car keys so you don’t have to sit around on the ground. I’m running at swing tempo for fifteen miles. There are no convenient fields to run through for this, so we run on country roads. We’ll start at Glacier Creek on County Line Road and head north. Not everyone is running a big run today, so you’ll probably have running companions most of the way.”

“Everyone?”

“It’s a club run. Could be ten people, could be twenty. Depends on who got out of bed this morning.”

Allen County is shaped by Fort Wayne. There are some county roads that more or less follow the grid system, but the main highways approach more like a spiderweb. Highways 30, 33, 27, 69, 469, and two rivers interrupt any grid pattern. Just a few miles west of where we live, Whitley County is laid out on a perfect Jeffersonian grid. Each township is thirty-six sections with county roads running north/south and east/west at one mile intervals. As a result, you can ‘run around the block’ and go exactly four miles. I figured I could do six miles by going west two miles, north a mile, east two miles, and back south a mile. I’d probably be done in an hour or so. I was glad I packed my Kindle in my bag. I’d catch up on some reading.

A dozen runners set out at an easy pace. It was clear which ones were just having a pleasant Sunday jog and which were seriously training for a run. In fifteen minutes, the people training were pretty much out of sight on the long straight road ahead. Four women were chatting as they ran and I kept pace with them. They didn’t seem to mind but I wasn’t included in their conversation. They turned north after the first mile, apparently making just a four-mile run. There were a couple runners still ahead of me who were doing longer runs but I didn’t feel like I wanted to push my pace enough to catch up, so I ran alone.

I just relaxed into my pace and let my mind wander as my feet beat out the rhythm. Life was weird. V1 had a hard time with my running routine. I’d been fit enough in high school but no great athlete. By the time I was out of college, I was soft. I was active in that I had a wife and a baby not long thereafter. I had a house to maintain, children to play with, a dog to walk. I’d developed quite a paunch by the time Rebecca got sick. I lost a lot of weight after she died, but it wasn’t through exercise. Smoking and depression cut my appetite. I became a skinny guy with a pot belly.

Renie was good for me. She didn’t try to reform me, but I started eating more healthily. I was back to walking regularly and I cut the cigarettes completely. I still enjoyed my evening cigar but only outdoors. Instead of becoming morbidly obese, I’d just been a bit overweight.

All this exercise V3 did was strange. I ran almost every day. I was a little worried about what would happen after the last cross country meet next week. Will I still manage to run as much and stay in shape without the team practices? I wondered if Livy would still want to run on the weekend when she had basketball practice during the week. And would Nanette and I continue our early morning runs when there was snow on the ground?

The important thing was that I felt good and felt good about myself. I had an occasional twinge in my right leg when the weather changed but I considered myself fully recovered from the accident. Jock had done measurements of all athletes this fall and pronounced my right leg to have the same circumference as my left. My arms were balanced, too.

Where am I? I didn’t recognize any of the scenery. There was just a long tarmac road with a stripe down the middle. I hadn’t seen anyone since a family drove past, apparently on their way to church. The next intersection I came to said I was at the intersection of County Road 700 S and County road 700 E. If I remembered correctly, the County Line was 800 E. It looked like I was going the right direction, so I just kept running. A mile later I turned south and in half an hour was back at the car. I didn’t see anyone else around so started stretching and cooling down.

If asked, I couldn’t have told you one thing I passed on my run. I was totally zoned out. I didn’t even remember what I was thinking about most of the time. I looked at my phone and saw that I’d been out for two solid hours. I downed a full bottle of water and found a tree where I could pee. What the fuck? How far did I run? I really needed to get one of those runner’s watches that kept track. I called up a map and tried to recreate what I’d run. I remembered where the women I’d started with turned off. And passing a corner just after I’d lost sight of the couple who were running ahead of me. I was sure I’d turned on the next road. But 700 was two miles north of there. I tabulated it up and realized I’d run ten miles in two hours. Ten twelve-minute miles.

I sat in the front seat of Nanette’s car and reached for my Kindle before spotting a book shoved between the seats. Zen and the Art of Running. I leafed through the book and found that running and meditation were closely linked by this author. Apparently, that was what I’d been doing.

“Been waiting long?” Nanette asked as she jogged up to the car. I glanced at the time on my phone.

“No. About twenty minutes is all. Did you cut your run short?”

“Are you kidding? I felt good out there so I did a couple of extra miles. You ran for two hours?”

“Best I can figure, I did ten miles.”

“Good for you. You can’t run that long without clearing your head of the mundane. You must have the answer to life, the universe, and everything.”

“Forty-two,” I answered automatically. Nanette laughed.

“I was sure that was a reference that was too old for you. Help me stretch a little and I’ll get you back home. I see you found my book on meditation,” she said.

She put her hands on my shoulders and we leaned into each other to stretch our legs. We balanced each other as we did calf, quad, and psoas stretches. I’d done most of my ground stretches so worked on holding Nanette’s stretches for lower back and glutes. That was the position we’d been in when we accidentally fell together a few weeks ago. I couldn’t help but grin a little as I remembered.

“I can see what you are thinking, young man,” she said with an eyebrow cocked. “The first time is an accident. The second time is an on purpose.” I looked at my strong lean running mate, suddenly aware of the way my hands were on her thighs pushing forward. She was looking intently at me—challenging me. I think forty must be the most attractive age in a woman’s life. There was maturity and a hint of mischief in her eyes.

I gave a little push to the sides and her thighs parted. I fell into the gap, almost seriously losing my balance and falling on her. I caught myself in time to simply press my chest against hers as I brought my lips up to kiss her. Nanette didn’t resist the urge. Our mouths melded together and our tongues played. A little thrust of her hips met my growing erection where it touched her crotch. We just enjoyed the moment and all too soon, it was gone.

I pushed myself back and offered her a hand to get up. We self-consciously brushed leaves off ourselves and turned to the car. I was worried as we buckled in and she started the car. She’d just put it in gear when I couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“Nanette...”

“Shh,” she hushed me. She turned and placed a finger on my lips. “Don’t spoil it. Meditate on it.” She tossed the Zen book into my lap and then drove me home.

Once I was home and in the shower, I meditated on it some more. Twice.

I was in a strange mood. I made lunch for Mom, Dad, and Pey and sent Mom a text to not go out after church because I made food. I got a surprise emoticon back from her. It wasn’t elaborate. I made a salad and then doctored up some commercial pasta sauce with vegetables and Italian sausage. I got the water boiling so when they got home from church, all I had to do was toss the spaghetti into the kettle to cook. They were very appreciative of the meal and I felt good about sitting with my family. It was still sad to see Emily’s empty chair, but Pey was ready to talk about anything and everything that popped into her little head.

We cleaned up the kitchen together and then sat at the table to do our remaining homework. I’m not sure I comprehended what kind of homework a fourth grader has, but she was determined to sit at the table as long as I did. When I was finished with my Trig, I closed my books and Pey closed hers with a big sigh. She took me by the hand and led me to my bedroom where she carefully handed me my guitar. I leaned against the head of the bed with pillows behind my back and started to strum. Pey crawled up beside me and leaned against me while I played. I got lost in the music, no more paying attention to what I played than I had paid attention to my running earlier. I glanced down and realized Pey was sound asleep. I thought it looked like a good idea and soon let my eyes drift closed as well.