Running from Love: A Story for Runners and Lovers Read Free Page A

got out of school, so he could tell.
    Farrah made a face at her team member.
    “Blanca, it wasn’t him. It was me. I was trying to show off.” She looked down, embarrassed.
    “No. Really? You trying to show off? Try picking up your feet next time,” John lectured her, jokingly.
    “She would have passed me if she hadn’t tripped,” Jude said in her defense.
    “And you would have taken first in our age group instead of me if you hadn’t stopped,” Steve Patterson spoke for the first time.
    “You won it, fair and square. Who’s to say what my time would have been? It was what it was.”
    “I think it’s safe to say that your time would have been faster if you hadn’t done the right thing. Here’s to Farrah’s friend.” Steve raised his coffee mug, the rest of the table joining him.
    “He’s not my friend. He’s—”
    “Okay, then. He’s your champion. Here’s to Fairfoe’s champion!” The woman named Blanca cried, raising her mug.
    Jude watched as Farrah picked up her mug, clinking his lightly.
    “Thanks again,” was all she said.
    It was enough. For the moment.
    T HERE WAS SOMETHING about Farrah’s running club that was like family. They offered her unconditional support as well as limitless teasing. And then, there was the trash-talking component. She hoped they would dial it down while Jude was at breakfast with them.
    Both Ana and Blanca endlessly grilled her about her love life, lecturing her on the perils of waiting too long to start a family or, for that matter, go out on a date. Blanca was happily married with teenage boys in their first year of high school. They were at the stage where it was too uncool to speak with either of their parents, so Blanca and her husband had plenty of time to hang out with the club. But Big Bill wasn’t here today, so Blanca was in fine fettle, ready to stretch Jude Farnesworth out on the rack, from what Farrah could see. She would try to head her off at the pass, now that she’d detected her friend’s antennae waving in Jude’s direction.
    “Blanca, have you ever done Leatherman’s Loop?” Farrah asked, deflecting her before she could ask Jude what he did, so she could speculate on how much his yearly income was.
    “That’s a killer race, Fairfoe. I did it once. Not for the likes of you, Princess,” her friend said, with the subtlety of a pit bull.
    “Maybe I’m ready to try something different,” Farrah shot back. What did her team members think of her anyway? And why did they have to let her know now? When a total—and admittedly handsome—stranger was here at the table with them?
    “Today’s trail race was plenty different for you. And look what happened. Stick to your 5Ks on the pavement. That’s where you really shine.”
    “Maybe I don’t want to shine. What was Leatherman’s Loop like?”
    “You’ll have scratch marks all over your legs by the time you’re done. And mud everywhere. I think I fell in when I crossed the river. It was nasty,” Blanca related.
    “That’s it, alright. You’ll feel like a rock star once you’re done. It’ll give you bragging rights,” Jude told Farrah. His chest muscles moved under his T-shirt as he turned to look at her.
    “Farrah doesn’t need any more bragging rights. She’s already got that department covered,” Blanca taunted across the table. Trash-talking had commenced, a favorite club pastime.
    “Iron Woman, you’re president of that division, last time I checked. Aren’t you using that trophy as an end table in your living room?” Farrah could give as good as she got.
    “No, I’ve got it in my garden now, with a statue of Diana on it,” Blanca said, referring to the Greek goddess of the hunt. It’s my inspiration for next year.”
    “You medaled at Ironman?” Jude asked, looking impressed. The Ironman World Triathlon took place in Hawaii each fall. It included swimming and biking competitions followed by a marathon. World-class elite athletes competed by invitation