Chapter 153: Repeating the 10k at Donna's Athletic Club

Saturday, April 30, 2005 (Continued)

When Carol and I got home, I was greeted by a nervous Donna who said, "I was afraid you'd forgotten?"

I checked my watch: 9:45. "There's plenty of time. Let me get some better clothes on. The weather's a bit iffy though; will it be canceled if it starts raining?"

Donna looked at me like I was silly, "No, of course not. Especially because heaps of people want to see you run another 10k."

I hoped because they wanted to see an impressive run, rather than they hoped to see me fail or exposed as a cheat. I just said, "Let me get changed then I'll drive you to the club."

"Okay. Hurry."

As far as I could tell there was no special need for me to arrive 'on time'. I was just going to chat a bit, run around their track for half an hour, then head home for lunch and probably catch up on some chores. Maybe I should run VERY slowly.

I got changed, put on some warmer clothes over top, grabbed a raincoat in case I had to run in the rain with the crazy people, and headed out.

Before I got away, Mom intercepted me to ask, "Mark, what are you intending to do for your anniversary with Julia?"

"Huh? What anniversary?"

"Tomorrow is May 1st and your first date with Julia was April 1st, so it'll be your one-month anniversary."

"That's an anniversary?"

"Yes it is, if you want to stay in her good graces."

"Oh. What should I do?"

"Something appreciative, romantic and thoughtful would be fine."

"Thanks very much, Mom. You're a GREAT help!"

"No problem. Don't forget you've got another first anniversary on the 14th too."

"ANOTHER one?"

"Your wedding anniversary. You'd better not forget that or you'll be in BIG trouble, twice over!"

"I thought 'anniversary' meant 'annual'. Don't they have the same root word because of the common 'ann'."

"It does mean annual, but not showing your appreciation to your loved ones does mean you'd be in big trouble. It's traditional to do that on monthly 'anniversaries' for the first few months."

"Okay, thanks for the warnings. Just out of curiosity, why is it that the guy has to do these things? Surely it should be an equality thing? We both went on the first date, all three of us got married. You're speaking like it's my responsibility."

"Not to put too fine a point on it, it's because guys have to show their appreciation to the girl for deigning to accept them. I know that's not the way Julia and Carol look at your relationship, but I think you should still show them how much you appreciate them anyway."

"There's something rather insulting to guys at the base of that reason, but I suspect I shouldn't kick up a fuss about that."

"You suspect right. Put some thought into your wedding anniversary on the 14th. That one's especially important."

"Okay. Thanks."

Dad intercepted my departure next, checking that I'd have a couple of hours at home between running and soccer. "Your mother has been complaining that the gutters need cleaning. I've been putting it off but it looks like it'll have to be today."

"No problem. I should be home about 11 or 11:30 at the latest."

Just before I left home, I sent Ava a text message saying Donna and I were on the way, then we climbed into 'my' car and drove off. I drove slowly to give me more time to check with Donna whether she'd blabbed to anyone else about my marathon running session, or whether she would blab when we got to the club today.

A very anguished Donna promised me earnestly that she'd learned her lesson, including "I'll NEVER do that."

"You mean, you'd never do it AGAIN?"

By the time we got to the Club, Donna was very subdued. I'd given her a hard time because I wanted to be as sure as I could that if I heard any blabbed talk, then it must've come from Ava. Also, if Donna did get carried away and blabbed today, I think my repeated warnings would easily cause her guilt to be visible on her face, so I wouldn't have any trouble discovering who the blabbermouth had been.

Ava was waiting for us when we pulled into the Club's parking lot a few minutes later. With Donna quietly attached to one of my hands, and Ava happily attached to the other, we walked into the Club's grounds.

I was led into the clubhouse, where I was introduced to some of the 'important' people (how important could someone be just because they were in charge of people who ran around in circles?). I was polite and non-committal in response to their attempts to encourage me to run more. I was now much less worried about being proselytized at than I had been back when I'd first agreed to come here today, but I was still less than impressed by their recruitment and similar efforts. Mom had made it clear on the phone that I didn't want them to try to convince me to join, and the big boss had agreed, but the attempts had started almost immediately.

The first few times I was told, "You should join this club," or more politely, "Are you interested in joining?", I responded by telling them I wasn't interested. I tried answering in various ways, such as: "I'm too busy", "I'm not that interested in running", "I don't like organized sports", or other words to that effect. All they did was start a debate about my reasons or the merits of joining this club. I eventually learned a better response: when someone asked me about joining, I turned my back and walked away from them. That killed any chance of a debate! They'd been told not to ask me, so if they did, they were being rude to me first.

The first time I did this took Donna and Ava by surprise, and they'd rushed after me. I told the girls, "They were told not to ask me to join, and they keep doing it, so I'm just going to walk away."

Donna particularly enjoyed it. By the third repeat, she started giggling as soon as she heard "join".

It didn't take long after my arrival for someone to ask me whether I'd run any marathons. The question surprised me, so I jumped a little. Donna jumped a lot more, but Ava hardly at all. The question was an innocent one, as far as I could tell, so I answered truthfully, "I'm not interested in marathons."

The questioner, a guy of middling 'importance' in the club, had seen our reactions though, so he pressed the issue. "What's your best time?"

"It was terribly embarrassing, and I don't want to talk about it."

"What was your time?"

I turned around and walked away. He'd figure it out, or not.

Marathons were raised several more times by other people, but Donna and I had our reactions under control. I sometimes got away with a simple answer ("I've never run one" seemed to work best), but sometimes the questioner would want to extrapolate my 10k times, or suggested I should run a marathon, or some other unwanted conversation. I'd say, "I'm not interested and don't want to talk about it." If they persisted after that, I turned and walked away. I did that quite a few times, for one reason or another.

While I was wandering around meeting the 'important' people, I got a tap on my shoulder. I proximity sensed it coming, of course, but I let things like that take their natural course rather than causing unnecessary questions, especially when I recognize the person or that the intention is harmless.

I turned my head. My hands were captured by Donna and Ava, so turning the rest of me took longer, but I quickly saw that the shoulder-tapper was Cindy, the girl who'd called me "Handsome" before the 10k race, and who had left before dinner could be served at the fancy restaurant. I said, "Hi Cindy."

"I heard you were coming today. I thought you'd come looking for me."

"Huh?"

#4: <She thinks we've come to the club to look for her. Because we desperately want to try again at getting her to be our girlfriend.>

#1: <That's not very modest of her, is it?>

#4: <It is very funny though. Is there any reason we can't answer by laughing at her?>

None of us could think of a reason, so I started laughing. When she'd gotten that message, I said, "Cindy, I'd totally forgotten that you belonged to this club. I came here as a favor to Donna." Several ideas occurred to me for letting Cindy know that I didn't need to come searching for girlfriends. Some of them were very boastful (they were true, but a long way from being modest), but I settled on a simple, "Ava is my girlfriend now." I held up Ava's hand with mine, to 'prove' it.

"So I see. Ava goes through a lot of the guys here, so it won't last long."

I was tempted to turn my back and walk away again (I'm starting to quite like doing that, as it saves a LOT of needless unpleasant discussion), but I wanted to say something to defend an Ava who was clearly about to rise to the occasion herself. I said, "The only reason it wouldn't last long would be if I wasn't good enough for Ava, as she's an EXCELLENT girlfriend. It wasn't nice talking to you Cindy, bye." I turned, grabbed Ava and Donna's hands, and walked away towing Ava behind me.

I commented, to no one in particular, but Ava's hearing me was intended, "She's certainly full of herself. Not a very nice girl."

Ava agreed, "She can't talk; she's had more boyfriends than I have!"

"It doesn't matter, Ava. And you don't need to defend yourself to me either. I know everything I need to know about you to be perfectly happy to have you as my girlfriend." I turned to my other side, to look at Donna, "Donna, let's go find the Ducklings. So I've got some potential girlfriends lined up, in case Ava decides I'm not good enough for her."

From Ava, "Ha! Like that's gonna happen."

Donna pulled us in the direction the Ducklings would likely be. In the car Donna had said six or seven of them were runners and should be here.

Our progress through the crowd was much interrupted, but none of the conversations were of any consequence so they didn't last long. However, I was quite annoyed at the number of times I'd heard the word, "if" in sentences such as, "if you can really run that fast..." Doubts about my time weren't expressed all that frequently, but each time was very annoying.

The Ducklings were sitting in a larger group of predominately young girls, and they leaped to their feet when they saw me, calling out, "It's Egg!" (or less often, "It's Mark!") Several of the other girls quickly followed. Within a few seconds I was surrounded by young girls. Worse things have happened - everything else since I'd arrived - so this was a definite improvement.

I decentered, saying, "I know the names of:..." I pointed to each of the Ducklings I'd met before, saying their names, with each of my minds taking turns controlling my mouth, pointing arm and finger.

One of the Ducklings happily exclaimed, "You remembered my name!"

It wasn't a particularly smart comment, but she was pretty (which is the more important of the two traits for a Duckling), so I motioned her closer, and bent down to whisper in her ear, "I always remember the names of pretty girls, especially VERY pretty ones like you."

"{Squeal}." Judging from her reaction, I'd just made her week.

While I was making that week, I was also having an internal conversation,

#3: <I never got to point and name my Duckling. Only one of them was mine, Katrina, but someone else named her. That's no big deal, except that I've noticed that sort of thing happening a few times recently, when a memory which should be specific to one mind seems to be known wider than that. The Duckling lunch was so short I don't think Katrina's name was used other than during the introductions, and you should all have been busy memorizing your girls' names rather than listening to mine. Have any of you noticed that happening?>

#1, #4: <No.>

#2: <I have. I was starting to wonder about that too.>

We discussed it a bit, and decided to experiment when we got home by getting one mind to read a book, and the others to try to access that memory.

#3: <Okay. I'll go back on duty now.>

We stood around chatting: The dumb-but-pretty girl I'd complimented told the others what I'd said (which generated more squeals), I was introduced to some of the non-Duckling girls, although there were soon too many of them to bother with introductions.

Donna was told how lucky she was to be my sister, to which she enthusiastically agreed, as Donna was very happy at the moment. Ava was envied even more, and asked to explain how she got to be my girlfriend.

She thought for a second, then answered, "I'm in the 11th grade, and Mark's in some of my classes."

I whispered to her, "You forgot to mention the photos you put in my locker." I was debating whether I should mention that to the Ducklings, because I wouldn't mind at all if some of them copied that tactic. On the other hand, they were very young and I shouldn't really be encouraging such behavior.

Ava blushed a little, then started saying, "It worked, didn't..."

Some guy, in his mid-20s I guess, talked right over the top of Ava, saying to me, "I hear you're going to try to prove your 10k time..."

"Do you MIND! I'm talking to someone else."

"I just wanted..."

"I couldn't give a hoot what you wanted. I want you to learn some politeness." I saw no reason not to, so I said, "I'm busy trying to flirt with my sister's pretty girlfriends, so go away."

He left, accompanied by much giggling.

I was tired of the innuendoes about my honesty, so I said to Donna, "Sweetie, I think I'd better run the 10k sooner rather than later. How do I go about getting that started?"

Donna excitedly said, "I'll tell the President." By the time she'd finished telling me that, she was already well on her way to the illustriously titled boss of the Pointless Circle Runners.

I flirted for a few more minutes, and then the Public Address system announced, "Attention everyone. Mark Anderson, the winner of the blah, blah..." (it went on for far too long). To condense it considerably, my "demonstration run" was going to start after the next race finished in about ten minutes. I was to start in lane one and any serious 10k runners who wanted to run with me could find themselves other lanes. Casual runners were invited to run in a group behind us. There were instructions about runners getting lapped to pull to the outside, and other minutiae I couldn't care less about.

I was amused by the President's statement, "I am told that Mark will be ATTEMPTING to reproduce the same time he achieved on race day." It was said with considerable skepticism, which contrasted with my total confidence quite amusingly. If he knew how fast I could truly run 10k, he'd wet himself.

I checked with Ava that I correctly remembered what lap time I needed to run to finish with the same time, and she confirmed it. I'd thought I had it right, but it was worth double checking as I'd look very stupid forty minutes from now if I'd gotten it wrong. Or maybe twenty minutes from now, or 70 minutes, depending on how wrong it might've been.

As soon as I started taking off my jacket, twenty girls offered, then clamored, for the honor of holding it for me. Several joking responses occurred to me ("I'll let you hold my clothes, if I can hold yours"), but I decided giving voice to my thoughts probably wasn't a good idea, especially if the girls agreed, since there were FAR too many adults around, i.e., any. I made a mental note to make the same offer in a more private venue.

I feared my clothes being pulled apart by girls squabbling over them, so I played safe by giving my tracksuit top to Ava. Donna arrived back while I was removing my tracksuit bottoms, which also went to Ava, then Donna eagerly led me toward the very special place from which the circle running started.

Quite a crowd started drifting that way too. There was clearly a lot of interest in watching me run around in circles for just over half an hour. I resolved to do my best to look fascinating, although keeping it up for that long would be a challenge. Thirty minutes would be stretching my fascinatingness to its limits.

Donna introduced me to the guy who had the important job of making sure all the circle runners started at the same time. We had to wait a few minutes for the current race to finish the requisite number of circles, so I spent the time warming up and chatting to Donna and Ava. They weren't going to start with me, but would join one of the later laps, "just for fun."

Soon it was time for me to take my starting position. There were quite a few other "serious 10k runners" lined up beside me, about two dozen of them, although some looked considerably more serious than others. The most serious looked very grim and determined, including the guy who had rudely interrupted Ava. I was very amused by the contrast between their clothing and mine. I was wearing whatever baggy shorts and T-shirt I'd first laid my hands on, plus an old pair of "running shoes". They weren't proper running shoes in any respect, being mere casual, wear-to-school shoes. I vaguely knew what Mom spent on Donna's running shoes, and the price tag on mine had contained considerably fewer digits.

Given the seriousness of the looks on some of my competitor's faces, including Mr. Rude's, I decided that I was going to win this demonstration run, even if I had to run faster than my race day time. I thought it unlikely, but if I had any serious competitors one or two K's out from the finish, I'd pick up the pace and burn them off.

There was a large bunch of assorted casual runners grouped behind me. I'm not sure why, but they all seemed interested in participating. They were a much happier bunch, laughing and joking with each other. Theirs was a MUCH better attitude, but I couldn't think of a way of letting them know I approved. I couldn't, for example, run with them, because that'd ruin my time. I decided not to worry about it, as I was outta here in forty five minutes or so anyway.

It was nearly time to start, so I looked at my watch to catch the correct starting time. The gun went off, and we all surged forward. I had a pretty good feel for what my optimal running rate was, but not for the slower rate that I wanted now. I quickly sped up until I was not far below optimal, and then held that pace. A couple of the serious 10k runners shot ahead of me - not Mr. Rude, I noticed - but most of them were content to match my starting speed, falling in behind me so they could run the corners in the shortest distance. I was running in third place. A slowly increasingly distant third, as first and second were outpacing me slightly, not that I cared.

It didn't take me long to notice that the club's timing board gave me a lot of information, although I really only needed the accumulating race time, saving me from having to calculate it from my watch. My first lap was 25 seconds too slow, so I sped up quite a bit. The next was 10 seconds slow (making 35 in total). I sped up again. The next was 10 seconds too fast, so I maintained that pace for three and a half laps to recover the deficit, then I slowed a little. After that I just had to make very minor adjustments.

The two runners ahead of me couldn't maintain the pace, so I lost a little time running around them, and a few casual runners weren't as fast at getting out of my way when I lapped them as they should've been, but none of these were more than hiccups. Apart from the two runners I've already mentioned, no other serious runner tried to pass me.

Several casuals ran alongside me for a while, including Ava and Donna. Several minutes earlier I'd remembered that I'd told Julia and Carol this morning that I was contemplating a 'normal' date with Ava this evening (my idea of "normal" meaning just me and my three regular lovers). I hadn't thought to mention it to Ava earlier, so when she fell in beside me I asked her, "Ava, I was thinking earlier today that you haven't spent much time with us the last couple of days, so what do you say the four of us - you, me, Julia and Carol - go out tonight? Movies and dinner, or something like that."

"That'd be great. Can I stay the night too please?"

I had to think about that, because Carol complicated the issue (actually, it was society's stupid prejudices and rules that complicated the issue). Carol had slept with Julia and me last night, and we hadn't spent much time with Ava recently, so Ava's request seemed reasonable.

I answered, "I think so. Let me check with Julia later to make sure she hasn't made other plans, and one of us will call you about it, okay?"

"Sure. You're the boss, boss. I don't think you're a very bossy boss though."

"Funnily enough, Julia says the same thing." I don't know what the other people around us thought of this conversation, but there wasn't anything troublesome in it.

If anything, they seemed most surprised that I was having a conversation at all, rather than the content of it. They started talking to me more, and to quite a few people's surprise, I was virtually a "casual runner" myself, in that I was perfectly happy to chat away, provided they didn't go on about marathons or boringly start raving about how good I was, or that I should slow down, or otherwise give me the benefit of their advice. I couldn't "turn my back and walk away" on people who got too annoying, but they took the hint when I warned them off clearly enough.

I looked back from time to time, especially after the halfway point, and could see that the serious runners were increasingly falling behind, or giving up entirely. Even though we were often mixed up with casual runners, it was easy to tell who the serious runners were; they were the ones with pained expressions on their faces.

The biggest difficulty I had was in deciding whether to take my shirt off or not. There were quite a few good looking girls watching me, and I was tempted to take off my shirt to impress them. I could pretend to mop my brow, as if I was sweating, which I wasn't. I thought about it over a couple of laps, eventually deciding not to. Girls from outside of school would need more time out of my evenings in order to build any sort of relationship, and I didn't want to make that commitment just because they looked pretty. There were plenty of pretty girls at school to choose from, who had the advantage of having something in common with me to talk about (school), and they didn't need to have the basic facts of my life explained to them.