Page 25 of Walking Red Flag

Today I was running nineteen miles.

In exactly one month, we’d be running not only our first marathon, but our first trail marathon.

The marathon was in Glacier, Montana and I was super duper thrilled about it—despite my depth perception problems.

I was excited because one, I’d always wanted to go to Glacier National Park. And two, I got to get away from the store and my family for a while and spend a week at, arguably, one of the most beautiful national parks in the nation.

Me:

Hey, I’m really sorry, but I can’t wait anymore. I have to get all of these miles done before I have to meet the contractor at Grizzly to let him in.

With my heart heavy, I started my long run off.

At first, it wasn’t too bad.

The day was cool but proved that if I didn’t hurry up and get this long run done, I’d be spending the tail end of my run in the blazing heat with no shade.

I was about an hour in when I made it all the way around the lake.

I had a pressing need for a bathroom, so I went off course of my usual running trail and headed to the end of the lake where I usually stayed away from because Hazel didn’t like running it.

She’d told me once that the trails were all uneven, and she always felt like she was going to trip and fall if she wasn’t careful. Generally, we’d avoided that end of the trail for so long that it wasn’t something I even contemplated going to anymore.

But today, knowing there was a public bathroom that was well-lit and safe, I headed toward it.

I got to the bathroom, did my business, and started pulling my soaked leggings up my legs and positioning them in place.

It was while I was doing that—and if you’ve ever pulled on anything spandex and wet, you know what kind of a struggle it was—that I heard a familiar laugh.

I pushed out of the bathroom door once my leggings were in place and stopped, heart beating fast, and listened.

I knew that voice and that laugh.

Hazel.

A smile on my face, I rounded the corner of the bathroom only to come to a startled halt when I saw Hazel there, stretching, and talking to the best friend stealer.

Hazel was laughing about something.

Rayann turned to my best friend, a smile on her face, and said, “I just love this part of the trail. I’m glad you were willing to run with me today. I know you said you were busy last week.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I wasn’t too busy,” Hazel said. “What I had to do wasn’t all that important.”

What I had to do wasn’t all that important.

Noted.

“Did you talk with your other friend?” Rayann asked. “Did you tell her that we were going to go to the race with you?”

“Uh, yeah. She’s fine with it,” Hazel said, but immediately changed the subject. “Did you get your new trail shoes?”

I looked down at my stupid trail shoes that I hated beyond belief.

I hated running on trails.

I hated even more that I tripped eight thousand times and fell at least twice a run.

Stomach in knots now, I readjusted my pants one more time, then turned.

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