Page 84 of Your Pace or Mine
As the start time got closer, Jamie tied and re-tied his shoelaces four times before being overcome with a desperate need to empty his bladder. There was still time for a quick stop at the Portaloos. He had been ridiculously early for once in his life. He followed the signs indicating toilets around in what felt like a complete circle, only to come face to face with the most absurd queue he had seen in his entire life.
“Is this for the loos?” he asked a woman running through some light stretches.
“Yes,” she laughed, “but the end of the queue’s all the way back there.” She pointed off into the distance. Apparently, Jamie was going to be getting his steps in before the race even started.
He was very tempted to just piss at the side of the road, but that felt disrespectful to the other runners, though he spotted a few guys doing just that. Jamie bounced up and down, the morning chill just making him more desperate.
Fortunately, the queue moved faster than expected, and he was ready to get in the corral with just five minutes to sparebefore the gun. Of course, now the area was crowded with people bouncing up and down on the balls of their feet, stretching and fiddling with watches and headphones.
He didn’t see anyone he recognised. He kept his eyes peeled, though, searching for Claire’s vibrant hair in the crowd. He’d skipped the morning meet-up, unsure if he could face questions about Darius. Now, though, as he watched the groups warming up together at the start, he was beginning to regret not having friendly faces around him. That was what he did lately, though, regret things.
Speaking of regrets, there sure seemed to be a lot of people with normal headphones in, considering he was sure the race packet said they weren’t allowed. He had read through it about fifteen times before giving in and buying bone-conducting headphones. They were sort of weird, but he didn’t think he’d make it running for four hours with no music. They had been ridiculously expensive as well, and as he was now discovering, they wouldn’t bloody connect to his phone. The hours he had spent perfecting his marathon playlist were looking like they’d go completely to waste.
He called it a lost cause and shoved them into his running belt, dreading the idea of four hours with no music to distract him from his inner monologue. That was the last thing he needed with all the shite in his life lately.
Looking up, a familiar face caught the corner of his eye. Jamie blinked rapidly, willing it to be a mirage. Of everyone he’d expected to see today, he was the last. Jamie froze, uncertainty, embarrassment, and horror welling up within him.
Stephen was here. It was like he was infiltrating every part of Jamie’s life, existing to dig the knife in further of everything Jamie had lost.
Seeing him here, in the bright morning sun, threw Jamie off. It was harder to imagine him as the slimy git he’d proven himselfto be as he stood laughing with a mate in his sports kit, all normal like. He looked like Jamie’s Stephen again, the one he’d thought he’d known. Stephen, who he’d thought he’d fallen for.
Jamie knew it was a trick, though. This was the man who, after months together on tour last year, had laughed in his face when he’d told him how he felt and thrown him away once word got around. The man who had propositioned him again just days ago, and threatened to ruin him when he refused— to take away his livelihood like it meant nothing.
Seeing him here now, after everything that had happened, Jamie could recognise that he had never loved Stephen. Certainly not the way he loved Darius. He’d thought he had, though, at the time. He’d been swept up in the excitement of the tour, the biggest role he’d ever landed, and the attention of a man with so much power. But he’d been so naïve, so trusting, and what had that got him?
A cancelled contract and a broken heart.
The sound of the gun and cheers from the crowd startled Jamie back to reality. He quickly shoved his phone into his running belt alongside the useless headphones as the group shuffled forward. He’d somehow managed to completely miss the 3:30 pacer flags and had no idea what group he was running alongside now, but he needed to run hard enough to get the hell away from Stephen, who seemed far too close for comfort.
Jamie sprinted.
He knew it was a bad choice. Between Reg and Darius, he’d been told more than enough times to start slow and aim for a negative split by speeding up in the second half of the race. But, fuck it, he had to get away.
Jamie’s body rebelled against the faster pace quickly. Fortunately, by the time it did, the three start lines had converged, and once they passed the Cutty Sark, the street was so crowded there was virtually no chance of Stephen spotting him. Jamie let himself slow down, just a little. His legs were screaming in pain, everything hurt, and his nipples were chafing against his shirt.
He could do this, though. He’d trained well. Sure, the start wasn’t ideal, but he’d push through.
Less than a mile later, he was regretting everything. Who was he kidding? He absolutely could not do this. He wanted to stop, he’d just… make it to the next aid station and then leave the course.
Whose stupid idea had it been to run a marathon, anyway?
His thoughts were spiralling as he continued to run. Jamie wasn’t a marathon-type. He didn’t have the strength of character, or whatever. Darius had been right to get away from him. Jamie hadn’t even been able to handle the bit of bad press he’d had that week. What would he have done if all this had come out during the Olympics, with even more eyes on Darius?
Fallen apart, that’s what.
Made everything about himself, because that’s what he always did.
As Jamie crossed over Tower Bridge, he struggled to keep his legs moving. They were only halfway. He grabbed a full-fat Coke from the aid station and slowed to a walk as he sipped it. Once he had caught his breath a bit, Jamie took the chance to look around. The atmosphere was amazing, and his spirits lifted—ever so slightly—as he walked. Crowds lined the sides of the streets watching the runners pass. Some of the homemade signs people held out managed to drag a laugh out of him.
One sign was Super Mario-themed and said, ‘Tap here to power up!’ he gave it a try, but it didn’t have the effect he’d hoped for.
A lot of the signs seemed to mention free bananas, which he didn’t get—maybe it was some kind of running joke? And there was one that almost made him giggle, ‘Worst parade ever,’ scrawled across it.
His favourite, though, was a bright coloured sign stating, ‘Don’t worry, nobody likes a quick finisher.’
He laughed, but it got caught in his throat. He just had to keep moving forward.
He saw Chi pass by, looking completely at ease as they glanced Jamie’s way to confirm he was alright. Jamie nodded in assent and picked his pace up to a jog again. A grin broke out on Chi’s face that buoyed Jamie further. It was difficult to feel down around Chi.
