“Easily.”
That got me a real smile. The timer went off and I moved her legs to get up. “Time to eat, then bed. We’re up at four-thirty.”
She groaned. “Remind me why I’m doing this.”
“Because many months ago you said you wanted to. And you don’t quit on things you want.”
alyssa
The first few miles,I thought about all the help I’d pushed back on. The car I’d fought him over. My condo. The job he’d tried to network me into. The countless day-to-day gestures.
And then there was this. I’d never fought him on this. Months of it. It was the only help that ever got past my guard without a battle, and it got past because there was nothing to refuse. You can hand a person back car keys. You can’t hand back somebody’s time. He’d given me the one thing I didn’t want to say no to. Him.
Julian ran on my left, a half step back, where he’d run every morning since the day we started.
“Shoulders, Lyss. You’re wearing them like earrings.”
I dropped them.
At ten miles, we spotted Simone, Taryn, Zion, Raschad, Tre, and the boys, all of them cheering and shouting at us. Micah jumping up and down with a sign bigger than his head.
“THAT’S MY MOM! SHE’S RUNNING TWENTY-SIX MILES!”
It was the best thing I’d ever heard. I waved and blew them all kisses and my speed picked up, like seeing them all gave me more gas.
The wall came up out of the road at me when we got to twenty-two miles, exactly where Julian had told me it would hit. It put concrete in my legs and plastic over my lungs.
“Julian.” My voice came out small and labored and I slowed to a pained walk.
He was already looking. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t. This was stupid. I’m not a marathon runner, I need to?—”
“Look at me. Not the ground, not the other runners.Me.” I did. “You’ve been training for months for this exact moment. We knew it was coming.”
“I feel terrible.”
“You’re supposed to. That’s what the wall is.” He kept pace with my granny shuffle. “Remember the twenty-miler in the rain? Mile seventeen, when you wanted to quit?”
I remembered. Cold, soaked, and done, but I’d kept going.
“This is just another mile seventeen. Another minute where you get to decide.”
I straightened my back, still walking, but a little faster.
“One foot in front of the other, Lyss,” he said. “Don’t think about the finish. Don’t think about miles left. Just the next step.”
We passed twenty-three. Then twenty-four. And then we spotted the family again, louder. Micah was on Raschad’s shoulders, arms up in the air screaming mine and Julian’s names with glee. The sight put something back into my legs that the wall had taken.
When we rounded the last turn and the line came into view, I started crying, which is a bad idea when you already can’t breathe.
“I can see it.”
“Quarter mile. How do you want to finish?”
“Together.”
We crossed it side by side, hand in hand. Somebody hung a medal on me and wrapped me in foil. My legs informed me they were finished, and Julian’s hands came around my waist. I leaned on him. I’d earned it. I ran every mile to get to it.
