“We’ll make sure you get the best treatment,” Jett says.
“Thanks, Coach Cordier.”
Once her ankle is wrapped, I stand. “How does that feel?”
She tentatively wiggles her foot. “Good. It doesn’t hurt as much.”
“I want you to ice it for the next couple of days, every two to four hours as needed. Once the swelling goes down, switch to heat for up to twenty minutes, three times a day. Use a wet towel that’s been microwaved. The damp heat will penetrate better than a heating pad.”
“Okay.”
I turn my attention to Jett. “She needs to get some scans, then she can come back for some PT. I’ve got a good treatment plan that helps keep athletes out of the OR. But until I haveresults on the status of her ankle, I can’t do much more than this.”
Before Jett can respond, Jenny says, “I’m in my third year and haven’t seen you before. Are you new around here?”
“Yep, this is my first year. Just wrapped up my doctorate.”
“That’s so cool.”
I help her stand as she gingerly puts pressure on her foot. She leans into me and looks at me with large doe eyes. I swear, she’s fluttering her lashes at me. “Are you new to Eugene? I could show you the hot spots around town.”
Oh boy. “I actually got my bachelor’s here. I’m very familiar with Eugene. I was on the cross-country team… Wes Ellison.”
Her pretty tawny eyes grow wide. “You’rethatWes Ellison? You and Dennis Holbrook put Oregon’s track and field team on the map again. The Ducks hadn’t had the male cross-country team win a championship since 2008. You clocked in at 8:31.8, and Dennis was right behind you. God, I’d love to talk your ear off about that.”
Well, shit. Now,Ifeel famous. Thatwasa fucking good race. As much as I’d love to talk about it, she seems to have more interest in me than running. “You can swing by here, and we can talk shop anytime.”
“Awesome! Well, I hope I see you around.”
Jett stands and takes over, helping her to walk. “Oh-kay, we’re done here,” he says with narrowed eyes and thick brows sitting low as if I’m the one hitting on Jenny.
“Not so fast. She needs crutches to keep the pressure off.”
I head to the storage room and find a pair of crutches that should work for her. She’s pretty tall, so she needs some that fit her. I sign out the crutches and bring them over. She tests them out, and they seem to work well.
Jett’s eyes don’t leave me for one second while I talk to Jenny. The staring is starting to weird me out. I raise my browsand mouth ‘what?’ and when he glances away, I shake my head. We clearly got off on the wrong foot or something.Jesus.
The early October morning is still dark. Sunrise doesn’t happen until after 7 am, but the stadium lights are all on. It’s a crisp 40°F, and I’m only in a pair of running shorts and a tank. I have to get to the university track before practice begins, and before I start work. Generally, when I practice my cross-country running, I stick with hiking trails or the beach, but the track works well enough since it’s so close to my job.
Goosebumps blanket my skin as I roll my ankles on the track. After that, I stand on my toes, then roll back onto my heels. I spend the next five minutes working on all my joints and stretching my leg muscles.
I face the track, jogging in place as I shake out my hands. Then I’m off. I start slow and steady, then pick up the pace, using my belly rather than my chest to breathe.
It doesn’t take long before I find my pace. I know my body and running more than I know anything, since I’ve been running for my entire life.
Soon, my mind clears, and I’m only focused on the sound of my feet on the pavement and my steady breathing. That’s one thing I absolutely love about running. It clears my head. No worries. No stress.
There weren’t any runners on the track when I started, but now I hear footfalls behind me, and they’re moving fast. My pace is quick, but I pace myself for the 3k run.
Whoever’s running slows down to run by my side. I glance over at my companion, shocked to see it’s Jett.
I don’t let him distract me as I start to pull away. I prefer to practice alone, thank you very much, unless it’s with Dennis.
My legs are burning, and my lungs are tight. Generally, I’d reach my second wind by now, but Jett has messed up my rhythm.
He pulls alongside me as we make the turn around the track. I try to pull away again, but he keeps up with me. Of course, he would.
I push myself harder and faster, but he’s right there, next to me, as if he’s not straining at all.
