Page 26 of Your Pace or Mine
“Fair enough,” Darius replied.
“Mark’s like that with everyone, though, constantly hounds the rest of us about donating, as if we don’t have our own targets to worry about.”
Darius turned back to watch the approaching group. “And how close are you to hitting yours?” he asked.
“I’m doing alright,” Jamie lied. “I think Adam’s struggling the most with it, but he’d never admit it.”
A look passed over Darius’s face. Jamie was willing to bet that he’d just had an idea.
Their conversation was interrupted as the group returned and Darius led them through a series of stretches, which hedidlet Jamie join in on, before moving the rest of the group onto some 50m strides down the track.
“We were going to do a Fartlek today,” Darius started. Jamie and Claire caught each other’s eye and struggled to suppress giggles. Darius rolled his eyes in Jamie’s direction. “It’s a Swedish speed drill.”
Jamie gave him a mock salute, unable to completely wipe the grin from his face.
“But I thought we might make things interesting,” Darius continued.
The group shifted, looking at each other. That could mean anything.
“You all have fundraising targets you’re trying to hit, right? And some of you have been pretty vocal about how hard that is.”
Claire shot a glare at Mark, who shrugged in response.
“So I’m proposing a challenge,” he announced. “A 5km race, on the track. Winner gets their full fundraising target covered by me.”
“Well, I’m in,” Mark said.
Darius moved back towards Jamie. “Figured that,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Is that fair, though? Jamie’s injured, he won’t be able to participate,” Adam interjected.
Jamie ran a hand through his hair. “I’m good, I don’t need handouts.” He absolutely did need handouts, actually. His total was still sitting at just over half, but no fucking way would he ever admit it here.
Darius grinned at him, and Jamie felt like he was seeing the sunrise for the first time. He was fucking gorgeous like that. Dammit. Hewascrushing on Darius. Jamie hated it when Reggie was right.
“Jamie can help me judge. I think it might be a close race.”
“Can I call the start?” Jamie asked.
Darius nodded.
There was some jostling as the four runners lined up along the track.
“This should go without saying, but any attempts to shove, trip or otherwise sabotage each other will immediately disqualify you. This is a running race, not a football match,” Darius drawled with a pointed look at Mark.
Once they had all more or less settled on the start line, Jamie raised his hands in the air. “Ready. Steady!” With a dramatic flourish, he swiped his hands down through the air as he shouted. “Go!”
He could tell as soon as they started that they’d all set off far too fast. Jamie had learned that lesson early in his training. Mark was probably the worst culprit, sprinting around the first half of the track and gaining a sizeable lead. Until, of course, he had to settle to a normal pace, and the gap started to close back up.
“Idiot,” Darius mumbled under his breath, making Jamie snort out a laugh. For a few moments, they stood together, watching in silence. Jamie started to feel restless. He looked longingly towards the hard metal stands that lined the track. Darius followed his gaze. “We could sit,” he said haltingly. Then, more confidently, he added, “It would be better for your knee.”
“And hip,” Jamie said, unsure why he offered the information.
Darius furrowed his dark brow. “That sounds like an illiotal band issue. Did you hurt it in training? I told you, you were overstriding.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. Darius was almost as irritating as he was pretty. They crossed the track towards the seating. Jamie could feel the cold of the metal stinging even through his joggers as he lowered himself to the bench. “I noticed it after my recovery run.”
“Did you rest up? Ice it?”
