Page 77 of Your Pace or Mine
“Why’s that?”
“Just a feeling.”
“Great. Cryptic and cardio,” Jamie muttered, but he followed Reggie around a bend in the path.
After a quiet jog in the April sun, Jamie was starting to feel like an actual human person again. They made their way to the local greasy spoon for a full English breakfast. Once they’d settled in, steaming tea and plates heaped with food in front of them, Reggie’s relentless need to fix Jamie’s life seemed to return.
“So,” Reggie started, “talk to me, tell me all your woes, my friend.”
His ridiculous tone made Jamie laugh a little despite his dour mood.
“As if you haven’t seen the headlines. Come on, Reg. Other than that, it’s nothing new,” Jamie replied. “Just my usual brand of failure. I’ve managed to lose my career and Darius in one fell swoop. Jonathan was right all along, I guess, I should’ve just stayed in my lane.”
Reggie glared into his eggs at the mention of Jonathan. “Can I say something?” he asked, and at Jamie’s nod, he began. “I know you felt some sort of misplaced sense of loyalty to Jonathan because of how long he was your agent.”
“He got me a lot of jobs, Reg,” Jamie argued.
Reggie scoffed. “No,yougot a lot of jobs. And he convinced you that he was helping, and that you needed to, you know... put out.”
“Put out? Is this a scene from Grease? Am I Rizzo or Sandy in this metaphor?”
“Shut up, you know what I mean. And I still think he pushed that so hard because he was hoping he’d eventually get a turn with you.”
Jamie’s face fell. “What, so I’m either a whore, or a total div?”
Reggie backtracked quickly. “That’s not what I meant at all, Jamie. I just, Jonathan was never your friend, he’s dodgy as hell, and you shouldn’t take everything he says to heart, like.”
Reggie was right. Jonathan had never been a friend to him, and how much had his little digs over the years affected him, his mindset, and his career? It was time to put all of that behind him and start a new chapter.
“He was right about one thing, though,” Jamie retorted. “I have no follow-through. I always give up. I quit everything, always have. Look at me now—I’m quitting theatre and dropping out of the marathon.”
“You are not dropping out. You’ve worked too damn hard for this.” Reggie fixed him with a stare, challenging Jamie to argue with him.
“It’s not even that big of a deal, anyway. You run marathons all the time, Darius runs marathons all the time, who cares if I do this one?” Jamie argued back.
Reggie sighed audibly. “This thing with Darius has messed with your head, Jay. You’ve worked proper hard for this, and you deserve to see it all come together, prove to yourself you can stick it out.”
He picked up his fork, punching it in the air to emphasise his point. “How many people do you think ever even enter a marathon in their lives?”
“Loads,” Jamie replied petulantly.
Reggie scoffed. “0.01% of people, Jamie.”
Jamie sipped on his coffee as he thought it through. “That’s still a lot of people if you’re talking globally, and it’s probably higher in the UK, like.”
“You’re takin’ the mick, but fine, loads, let’s pretend that’s even half true for a second. Finishing a marathon is still a big deal, Jamie, and I think you need to do it. You need to be reminded that you can do hard things. You’re the one who followed the training plan. You can do this with or without Darius or Jonathan, or anyone. Give yourself some proper fuckin’ credit.”
Jamie ate in silence, mulling over Reggie’s words. It wasn’t that he thought he was wrong, it was just that—he’d still lost everything. He probably could do it without Darius, but he just didn’t know if he wanted to.
Reg had so much confidence in him, though, like it was already a given that Jamie could do it. A minuscule flicker of hope started to burn deep within Jamie. Reggie was right. He was the one who’d trained. He was on track for a reasonably fast time for a first marathon if everything went to plan. And if Jamie could run a marathon, then maybe he wasn’t actually inherently a fuck-up, maybe he’d have a chance at fixing other things too.
Once they’d finished their greasy breakfasts and were making their way through yet another cup of builders’ brew, Reggie asked the waitress for a pen and started scribbling something on the back of a brown paper serviette.
“What on earth are you doing now?” Jamie asked.
“Making a list of all your problems,” Reggie replied simply.
“Well, fun as that sounds,” Jamie winced, “you’re probably going to need more serviettes.”
