Page 13 of See You at the Finish Line

Amasa Back16.75 mi/ 26.96 km

I really shouldn’t have used that burst of energy to get away from the literal man of my dreams. I should have stayed and flirted, fallen in love, and then proposed at the finish line. His buddies were right—this would make for a great story.

If only I wasn’t such a chicken.

Leah is going to give me such a hard time about this, and she’d probably be right. Like always. I think about the conversation we would have as I make my way to the next checkpoint, revelling in the bit of shade provided by the cliffs, and the trail that evens out into a nice dirt road.

I’d tell Leah about this amazing guy, and she would immediately smack me on the arm.

“You blew it, loser!” she’d say.

“I know, I know,” I’d admit, acquiescing immediately.

“When are you going to start giving yourself a chance at love?” Then she’d sigh dramatically.

“Bit cliche don’t you think?”

“No, what’s cliche is you getting your heart torn in two and then giving up on love entirely.”

“It’s not just about Spencer and you know that.”

“I know, Paige. Not all men suck their own balls. And not everyone dies.” I cringe at the image that conjures in my brain.

Spencer was a Class-A douchebag. He was an athlete—a golfer—and made sure everyone knew it whenever he walked into a room. They needed advance notice to clear space for the enormous ego that followed him wherever he went.

He wasn’t always that way. When we met on a dating app, he was humble and had a love for the game big enough to get me excited about golf. That was no small feat. Golf is basically a leisure activity and it’s boring as hell to watch.

But I loved watching him. I went to every event to cheer and support him. He came to my races and cheered and supported me.

Our first two years together were amazing, and I thought I had found my person. Even when I screamed into the night from nightmares, barely able to function because I couldn’t sleep, he was there for me, comforting me every day. I felt so loved.

Then he got sponsored. And not by a small local company—by one of the big ones. For a year after that, I watched as he slowly descended into douchebag territory. Hoping it was just a phase and he would eventually realize that I was still there. I continued to cheer and support him, but my Spencer was nowhere to be found.

No more funny signs to keep me going on race day, no more training runs together. No more cheering, no more supporting.

The only positive thing I can say about the end of our relationship is at least he didn’t cheat on me. I know because he told me so. How’s this for a break-up line?

“Listen, Paige, you’re great. And beautiful, of course, but now that I’m playing in the big leagues I need a more ... typical girlfriend for a pro athlete,” he said. “And I don’t want you to find me in bed with some model in a month and have to deal with the fallout of a cheating scandal. So you should move out.”

And that was that. I moved out that night right into the small house my sister shared with her fiancé. That was ten months ago. Spencer moved to the city and is currently living the high life as a pro athlete, and true to his word, a different model on his arm every time he graces the public with his presence.

Then there’s me and my sad pathetic dating life since the break-up.

I’m taken out of my thoughts by a burst of energy fuelled by spectators and race volunteers cheering me on as I enter the aid station. I’ll have to dwell on that disaster later. Or never.

“Bib 145,” I call to the volunteer with the clipboard. She marks my number down, giving me a big smile.

“Welcome to Amasa Back, Paige! The water refilling stations are over there, and chairs are set up under the tents if you need a rest. Also, we’re expecting some rain later, so be aware and careful out there.”

“Thank you!”

I follow her gesture to the chairs just as a pregnant woman comes flying at me.

“Paige! How are you? How’s the trail? Tell me everything!” Sadie hugs me tightly from the side, angling her belly away. Leah comes up behind her holding two paper cups.

“I’m alright. It’s going to be hot today, I can feel it.”

“Yeah, it’s going to be brutal.” Leah nods as she hands me the two cups, one filled with cold water and the other with electrolytes. “Do you need to sayfornication?” she whispers, testing out my safe word.

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