The Shine Journal

Marathon Madness

 

by

 

Joanne Faries      

 

                                

 Photo by Vicky S

“This is kinda interesting,” Rachel said to Mike as she perused the Sunday paper. He had his comics and she read the lifestyle section. “A lot of the folks running in today’s Dallas White Rock Marathon had a goal that at age fifty they’d run a marathon. So they trained all year, most lost weight, and today they are achieving the run. Hmm.”

 

“You know my theory on that,” Mike crunched on a piece of bacon.

 

She knew his theory. “Tell me again, dear. Rachel flashed her best bemused smile.

 

“You only have so many heartbeats. Use ‘em up on a marathon or two; you are cutting into your life span. Look at that Jim Fixx guy – super skinny health nut, running all the time. Bam! Drops dead at 44 or so.” Mike rose, walked to the French doors and peered out at the pool fountain. He nodded, satisfied that it was churning water, and returned to the table.

 

“Then again, it might be cool to run a marathon. Wasn’t on my goal list and now it is.” Rachel snuck bacon off his plate, and he playfully slapped her hand.

 

“Never ran in your life and you hate to sweat. You told me yourself you’d get excused from gym to work on your school newspaper.”

 

“Maybe I regret that now that fifty fast approaches and I’m outta shape.”

 

Mike switched to the sports section. “Suit yourself. I’m not running with you. Did track in high school and it’s hard work. You gotta build up to a marathon. Think about it – rain, cold, heat, wind. Uphill, downhill.”

 

After a swig of orange juice, Rachel put her glass in the dishwasher. “Weather elements…wind killed my tennis game.”

           

“Yep. And marathons have large crowds pushing and shoving.”

 

“That’s the start of the race. Realistically, I’d fade quick and run on my own.”

 

“True. How about your fluid intake? You can’t stop and lounge around to eat your granola bar and sip Gatorade. It’s run, gulp, gulp, chew, swallow, gulp, and run faster.”

 

Well, crap. Rachel reflected.  Mike knows me too well. I can’t walk and drink at the same time, let alone run.

He continued, “There’s also this goo stuff you squeeze out of a pack in order to ingest nourishment. It’s the consistency of snot.” Mike extrapolated, “Plus, if you need to pee, there’s Port-a-Potties along the trail.”

 

“Okay, there’re a lot of pitfalls to this marathon thing. I’m still mentally marking it as a goal.”

 

Mike wiped his face and brushed toast crumbs into his hand. He flung them into the sink, gathered the rest of the paper off the table, and proceeded into the family room. He looked back at her. “Perspiration and athlete’s foot. Good luck.”

 

Rachel wiped off the table, rinsed the remaining dishes, and contemplated the fall calendar. A marathon would look impressive on my list of life goals. Eh, it’s only a list and I can place it after winning the Pulitzer. Thank God, Mike stopped me before I hurt myself.

 

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My Bio: Joanne Faries, originally from the Philadelphia area, lives in Texas with her husband Ray. Published in Doorknobs & Bodypaint, Off the Coast, Orange Room Review, and Salome magazine, she also has stories in Shine magazine, A Long Story Short, and Bartleby-Snopes. Joanne is the film critic for the Little Paper of San Saba. She is a member of Trinity Writers Workshop in Bedford, Texas. 

Motivation: I turned 50 last year and had read about so many people achieving a marathon. I created Rachel, a character more after my own sedentary heart and threw her into a humorous flash.