The Mile

He was running the mile and it was beautiful. Though he wasn’t tall, he wasn’t short either. Undoubtedly, he was perfectly lean. The effortless way his legs carried him with a harmonic rhythm of lifts and pushes was hypnotic. I was right beside him and with all my heart I wished that I could run so well. Sure, I’ve kept up so far, but only because I was drafting him most of the way. I knew my body was spent and wouldn’t last much longer. We were just over halfway and our time was just about two and a half minutes. This was my best time ever. He didn’t know my averages but I knew his. He was right on schedule. As I fell behind him and started drafting again, I concentrated on his legs and pulled myself into the monotonous rhythm; it’s the only way to hang on. Forcing my self to breathe harder, I felt euphoric and exhausted at the same time. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters when you’re in the zone. I’m here and he’s there. One lap to go, I knew I can do it. He started pulling away picking up the pace to secure the lead. I had nothing left. Now that I was no longer drafting, I noticeably slowed down. I was one third of the way into the last lap and I noticed Jason, who was in third place, gaining on me and he was sprinting! At two thirds of the way around the last lap, Jason is right behind. I’ve been in second place for the whole race and I was not about to be third so I started to sprint too. Now that SOB, Jason, was drafting me! He was ready to strike as soon as I waiver. I needed to sprint the last 100 meters just to keep second. Breathe! Just Breathe! I yelled at myself. We were even gaining on Mr. Lean & Average Height but we could never catch him. Then the unthinkable happened and even twenty years later I still can’t believe it. Mr. Lean heard Jason and I sprinting and performed the absurd: he turned to look. Even Jason knows that you never turn. Being overly inquisitive, when I first started running on the track team, during practice the coach made me run so many extra laps for tuning my head that I decided to join the cross country team too. I have since broken that habit. Well, his perfect rhythm did not like his turning neck and his toe on his right foot hit the calf on his left leg and he went flying through the air. Jason and I sprinted past him with triumph beaming from our faces. The smiles soon faded when the bad taste of guilt struck me across the face for being happy because we noticed the palms of his hands looked like hamburger. He was up and running again after we passed but the finish line was so close third place was the best he could hope for. Jason made his move and tried to pass on the right. I moved to the right and blocked. I had never blocked anybody before because I always considered it cheating. He tried again, faster this time. I knew he would and was ready and quickly blocked him again. I tried not to do it but some savageness inside me took over. Jason never beat me before. This was the best run of my life. This was the State Track Meet. I just couldn’t let him beat me; not here and not now. He tried one more time to pass but he ran out of race. I received a trophy and it was glorious and I didn’t feel any guilt at all, not that day. But for twenty years, that’s all I remember is the guilt. I could never remember it fondly, never with pride and I almost threw away that trophy a hundred times or possibly one hundred and one times. He was my best friend and I cheated him out of the state championship. Right now, twenty years later at the high school reunion I am at long last vindicated. After telling Jason that the trophy was in a large dumpster at work and described in detail how the compacting function bent and deformed the small figurine of Mercury, he said he was glad that I won. “What?!?!” He said that he popped a couple of white crosses before the race just to see what would happen. “White cross” he said was the neck-name for speed and they were called white crosses because they were white pills with a small white cross. If he would have won, the coach may have suspected the drugs and if he was caught, Princeton would have surely revoked their acceptance. Of course I lied; I never threw away my hard earned trophy. He’s not my best friend anymore so I don’t feel guilty, not today.