Page 17 of Your Pace or Mine
“Like what?” Darius asked.
“Charity work, donations. Shake hands, kiss babies—go all out.”
Darius wrinkled his nose. “You want me to be a politician?”
“They do it cause it works, Darius. Anders may never come around, but the selection committee is more than one person. He might have their ear right now, but if you can show them he’s wrong…”
Taking a sip of his coffee, Darius nodded. It made sense.
“And I think you should consider pulling out of the London Marathon.”
Darius did a double-take, nearly spitting his coffee over his barely touched breakfast. “What?”
“Pace the marathon, support the runners from your clinic group to hit their goals.”
“But London’s the last marathon before selection.”
“You’ve already got the times; there’s virtually no chance of any Brit topping them.”
“What about Owens?” Darius countered.
“What about him?” Ellison replied. “You’ve got nearly four minutes on his PR. He’s not coming for your times. But he will get your spot anyway if you can’t prove you can be a team player.”
It was a lot to think about. Darius knew Ellison wasn’t wrong, but pacing the marathon was something only has-beens and do-gooder celebrities did. Plus, he never missed London, it was his home race, and his favourite one in the calendar. He’d only won it once, two years ago, and there was nothing like breaking the tape on the Mall, surrounded by screaming supporters. It was the best feeling on earth. Could he really give that up for a long shot at the Olympics?
“I’ll think about it,” he replied.
“That’s all I ask.”
A silence settled over the table, heavier than the café‘s bustling commotion could overcome. Darius swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet Ellison’s eyes. “You sure about this, Coach? Retirement?”
Ellison smiled again. “Yeah, kid. I’m sure.”
He wanted to be supportive. He knew Ellison needed this, but it felt like the end of an era. Retiring was a big deal. He’d have to find a new coach. Of course, Jackson would too. They could cross that bridge when it came, though.
“What have you got planned then?” he asked.
Ellison’s face lit up. “Well, first, I’m taking the missus on a Caribbean cruise.”
Chapter 6
Darius
12 weeks to the London Marathon
The evening air had a bite to it, the kind that left Darius’s lungs feeling clean and sharp with every breath. He shifted on his feet at the edge of the park with Jackson and the other volunteers, watching the group of returning runners warm up. Jamie was back again. He’d been here every week without fail. They hadn’t interacted much since the first night. Darius had been avoiding interaction with anyone at the clinic but Jackson since that disparaging article had come out. He’d quite artfully dodged any potential for conversation by keeping himself just far enough ahead of his group and leaving the second they finished.
Still, Darius’s eyes immediately found Jamie, jogging in place like a wind-up toy, his breath puffing out in little clouds. He took the moment to observe him, the long lines of his body, his bouncy curls and seemingly boundless energy drawing Darius in like a magnet.
Darius blamed Jackson for this newfound fixation.
Other runners surrounded them, splitting off into their respective groups as they prepared for the longest run most ofthem would have done yet in their training, eight miles. Distance would ramp up quickly from here, so he wasn’t going to let anyone slack off tonight. The atmosphere was more relaxed after a few weeks of the sessions under their belts. Darius didn’t think he’d made much progress with Anders, but he was trying, damn it.
Casual conversation drifted around him as he gathered himself, pointedly ignoring Coach Anders as best he could. He needed to play the long game, show up for his runners. Prove he cared about something other than the Olympics, even if it wasn’t strictly true. He was dithering over Ellison’s suggestion to pace the marathon. Maybe it would be better to just come out publicly and see where things landed—at least that would have the benefit of closing the door firmly on the whispers of bigotry.
Anxious to get started and stop overthinking his mess of a life, Darius interrupted the chatter to outline the plan for his group.
“We’ll start at a tempo pace before evening out. I want everyone at conversational pace for most of the run, then we’ll pick it up again in the final mile.”
