“What’s true?”
“Yes.”
I smiled despite the fear. Then I turned toward the start.
The first mile was chaos. Runners moved too quickly, too slowly, and sideways. Someone stopped directly in front of me to adjust a phone. A man wearing a banana costume passed on the left. I wanted to speed up. Dani ran beside me outside the main flow.
“Let them go,” she said.
“The banana is ahead.”
“The banana has different goals.”
“It has poor aerodynamics.”
“Run your race.”
I checked my watch. The pace was faster than planned. I slowed. People passed. The movement triggered every competitive instinct I possessed. I let them. At mile one, a volunteer called the time. I was twelve seconds behind the planned split after slowing. This was acceptable. My body disagreed. Dani caught me recalculating.
“No calculating projected finish.”
“I was not.”
“You were multiplying.”
“It happened automatically.”
“Think about mile two.”
We crossed a bridge. The river below reflected the pale morning. Spectators lined the far side, holding signs.
YOU PAID TO DO THIS.
WORST PARADE EVER.
RUN LIKE YOUR EX IS WATCHING.
I abandoned the final sign. Dani noticed.
“She doesn’t get this mile.”
“Who does?”
“I do.”
“Good.”
At mile three, Dani moved toward the side of the course.
“This is where I leave.”
Even planned, the departure hurt. She read it.
“Only until ten.”
“Right. Do you want me to stay?”
The crowd moved around us. This time, she meant it. I considered.
