Run for Love

I collected myself and packed my running bag for the train. Kay came out in very stylish, but functional light blue sweats. She drove me down to the train station but neither of us really said anything. She did kiss me on the cheek as I started for the train and mumbled something about seeing me at the office in the morning.

Later, back at my suite above the office, I stood there looking out the dormer window, sipping on some brandy. I'd surely noticed Kay before; damn, I wasn't dead. But Owen had been a somewhat intimidating influence. Okay, he scared the shit out of me! But Owen was long gone and I was lonesome and sure as hell was blue.

I kept up my running, and a couple of times Kay ran with me. We went to lunch once and I had some wonderful Bangers and Mash. The way she was looking at my plate I thought she was going to barf. After that we would, weather permitting, have lunch in the park... so she would bring everything; everything being some yoghurt, carrot sticks, and crap like that. I kept mumbling stuff like carb loading but it went over her head. I finally gave up and would have a second lunch later at the pub.

Finally it was time to go up to Stamford for the race. I drove her Mini Cooper, having been in England long enough to have no problem with driving on the wrong side of the road. It was actually a sunny day, a cold sun, but nice.

Stamford is a very old town about a hundred miles north of London. The entire town seemed made of stone and was quite lovely! It's not very large, less than twenty thousand people, but it has more than thirty pubs and almost as many restaurants. Its conservation status means much of the town's old charm remains and its imposing limestone buildings make it a favorite with tourists and filmmakers.

We checked into the hotel, both of us acting a little nervous. I chalked it up to pre-race jitters. Like I understood women anyway! Right after we checked in we went for an easy run to loosen up a little. When we got back to the room I noticed Kay was limping a little – she sat on the bed and started rubbing her hamstring muscles on her right leg. I'd been running for so many years, most of them with trainers, that I'd become somewhat callused about the aches and pains of running. This was the currency of the sport.

I didn't even think about it, I moved over to the bed where Kay was sitting and started kneading her hamstrings. I could feel the tightness and started working on it. Kay let go with her hands and started relaxing. I was actually pretty good at this; it's not like I never had any practice. Kay was relaxing more and more (she sounded like a cat purring) and I moved up and down her leg, feeling for the tight spots. Right at the top of her thigh she seemed really tight, so I started working on that. I don't know, maybe I moved my hand a little too high, but suddenly she opened her eyes and jerked up into a sitting position, staring at me.

She jumped off the bed and ran into the bathroom, stopping at the door and flashing me an enigmatic look, and disappeared into the depths of a woman's mystery. I don't know how long she was in there but lying on the other bed I fell into a deep sleep.

Walking down the stairs to the continental breakfast the next morning, Kay reminded me that we were in "an existing romantic relationship" so we had to act the part. I took her hand as we entered the dining room and I pulled her chair out for her. We acted very friendly with everyone and made sure we were noticed. She got up once to talk to a friend of hers for a minute and I did the chair thing again. For this I was rewarded with a quick, but firm peck on the lips.

We were staying at The George of Stamford. It is a five star place and was the quaintest and most interesting hotel I had ever stayed at. The main block was built in 1597! Our room was quite lovely and overlooked the garden restaurant. The staff was exceedingly professional and very friendly. Our room did have two beds, the worse the luck.

It finally came Sunday and the race. We were both excited and more than a little nervous. The course went out of town, made a large loop through the surrounding counties, and then back to town on the same route it went out on. The brochure said the course was "undulating" but I was no virgin runner. Knowing the English penchant for understatement I knew I could look forward to a tough, hilly race.

Standing at the starting line we gave each other gave each other a tight hug and a brief kiss. As she turned away, I gave her a firm pat on her derrière, letting my hand rest there for a second. I figured I should make it look good, given our "pre-existing relationship." She stopped and gave me a look that clearly said, "Watch it, buster, and don't over play your role!"

I laughed and as the race started I was very relaxed. There were a large number of runners. This was the largest sporting event in Stamford each year and was one of the main tune-up races for the London Marathon. People came from all over England to race here. There were tons of people lining the way out of town. It was a somewhat cool but nicely sunny day. Perfect for running.

Expecting the course to be tough I ran easily and well within my self. I knew I had a tendency to get excited and start out too fast. My goal for the London Marathon was to run a six-and-a-half minute pace per mile. That meant I should do each kilometer in spot on four minutes and would finish right at two hours. Kay's average time running this was around two hours and fifteen minutes. We felt that would give us a good chance to finish in the top three. Since this race was twelve kilometers shorter, if I felt good I'd try to pick it up a little at the 15K marker.

I shouldn't have worried about starting too fast – it took the crowd a while to sort out and after 5K I was about twenty seconds off pace. I picked it up slightly and by 10K I was right on again. When we got out into the country lanes I was stunned with the beauty of the area. I got into a rhythm in my running, zoning out the race and becoming absorbed in what I was seeing. I started daydreaming of living here: looking at a small inviting village, or seeing a tidy farmhouse.

Kay's face popped into that vision and I started fantasizing a little – starting with the image of her undressing before she kicked the door closed. In this version she didn't close the door and as I started walking towards her I saw... the 20K sign. I automatically looked at my watch and was stunned to see that I was four minutes ahead of pace. I consciously backed off slightly and tried to pay more attention to the race. I was feeling good, very relaxed, nicely in the zone.

When we finished the loop and made the turn towards the finish line, I picked it up a little. I was nowhere near the leaders, of course, but I was doing okay for a course that was even tougher than I expected. I was feeling some pain now but I was used to that. I held my form, concentrating on that. I was feeling better and about a quarter mile from the end and thought about kicking it in – but decided it might be counter productive for the London race. About twenty yards from the finish this guy came flying past me, sprinting like the hounds of hell were after him.

It turned out that guy was the winner of the over forty category: his time was 1:56:58 and mine was 1:57:01! I knew I could have won it but it really wasn't as important to me as it was when I was younger and running competitively. I shook his hand, congratulating him, and he gave me that little smile that runners have when they win and they know they shouldn't have.

I put my sweats on and stood by the finish line waiting for Kay. It was fun to watch the runners coming in – sharing the experience of completing a tough race, sharing the pain, the knots in our calves, the blisters, enjoying the "runner's high." The endorphins kicking in give a sense of euphoria. Several runners have told me it was like having an orgasm. I would just smile at them, thinking they must be having piss poor orgasms!

I was looking for Kay to come in right around 2:15:00. She had stressed that her pace was as regular as her period. I laughed at that. A couple minutes more went by and finally I saw her; she seemed to be limping a little and then I saw her knee was scraped and still oozing a little blood. Her lower leg had dried blood down to her socks. I took her over to the first aid tent and got her cleaned up and bandaged. We went inside the school where they had a big pot of hot tea to warm everyone. We sat on the floor in the corner, relaxing, neither of us saying anything. I did hold her hand – I don't think she even noticed.

They had the race results and I was pretty pleased. I was second in the over forty and eleventh overall. I had no idea I was that close to the front... there must have been over 500 runners. We missed out on winning the Valentine's Couples by twenty seconds, and got the second place medal. We went back to our room, took showers and dressed in old, comfortable sweats.

We both collapsed on our beds and slept the sleep of the just. We rightfully earned a nice nap. After a couple of hours I awoke to hear a quiet snuffling sound. I looked over and Kay had her forearm over her eyes and was clearly crying. I moved over to her bed and lay beside her, pulling her arm from her face.

"Kay, what's the matter? Is it your knee?"

She averted her face and replied, "No, I ruined it for you! I wanted to help you win first place but around the first kilometer mark I was pushed a little and tripped over the curb. I lost a couple minutes before I could get started again. They wanted to bandage it, but I knew it would take too long. During the last bit it really started hurting and I had to slow down a little. I'm sorry, Jackie! I let you down."

I smiled at that. "Kay! You didn't ruin anything for me. I run because... well, hell! I run because I run. I always have. I do it because I love it. If it makes you feel better though, I'll forgive you if you give me a kiss."

I turned her face to mine and she looked at me, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. I brushed the tears from under her eyes with my thumb and gently kissed her nose, then her lips. She closed her eyes and I looked at her for a moment, seeing something that I had not seen since Carmela had gone to Chile, nevermore to return. What is it, that first magic moment when you realize you love a girl? What changes from one instant to the next that changes your life forever? Kay was deeply asleep by now and I gently pressed my lips to hers again, and fell back, asleep myself as my head hit the pillow.

I dreamed of a cottage in Casterton, one of the villages we went through on the race. I was walking home from the pub, after a friendly afternoon pint. It must have been summer; Kay was in the yard, on her knees planting flowers, prettily pregnant! There was a small whimper and I looked over a small boy, asleep on a blanket, having dreams of his own. As I went down to my knees to give Kay a kiss, I knew, this is what life is about!

I woke up, feeling good, knowing my life was different now. Kay's also, she just didn't know it yet. I was starting a new race, a run for Kay's love.

We didn't feel like going down to dinner so we had it brought up. There was a large salad, and even larger steak, a bottle of mineral water, and a nice bottle of Cabernet from Australia. Yeah, I know. Guess what was for Kay and what was for me. It was actually very good. There are not many English cooks that understand that mysterious request: "medium rare." The wine went nicely with the steak and we ate slowly in companionable silence.

We watched a movie on the tele, an old Jean Harlow one, that was actually quite well done. But near the end we were fighting to keep our eyes open. We went to bed right after that but I could hear Kay tossing and turning.

After an hour she came over to my bed. "Can I lay down with you? I can't get to sleep."

I lifted the cover and pulled her head down on my shoulder. I kissed her somewhere around the ear, and whispered, "Kay, will you be my valentine?"

The next morning we left right after breakfast. She drove and dropped me off at the train station. We kept going out regularly, lunches in the park when it was nice, at a restaurant or in the lunchroom at the office when it was not. I visited her in High Wycombe 'bout every other weekend. I think she was starting to love me but she was still edgy because of what Owen had done to her. I was patient. I had nowhere else to go and no one else to spend my time on.

I was deeply in love with Kay now. I loved her with a richness that I'd never had with Carmela. I could see now that some of what happened was partly my fault. I did all the little things that a lover does; the little surprises, a small, unexpected gift, a trip to the theatre for her birthday. We were gradually doing more than kissing, heavier petting, caressing, loving really. I put no pressure on her.

When it came time for the London Marathon I didn't even wear my watch. I ran for the sheer joy of it... at least a minute a mile slower pace than I had planned. Kay was there at the finish line, smiling when she saw the time, knowing what I had planned. She gave me a big hug and I went home with her that night. Some time in the middle of the night she came in to the living room where I was asleep on the sofa bed. She didn't have her flannel pajamas on – she was wearing a black, lacy, and very short nightgown.

After waking me up she took my hand and tugged me up, "Jackie, just... don't say anything."

She led me into her bedroom and into her life, into her heart. We made slow gentle, soft love. We were thoughtful of each other.

Six months later we were married. Two years after that we found a cottage in the country. I worked from home and would take the train into London, or whatever town I was working in, as needed. Kay found a job at the local hotel, handling reservations. Life was good!

I was having a pint at the pub in downtown Casterton. It was a warm summer afternoon and I need a break from the computer. I walked slowly home, enjoying watching the people, many of whom I now knew. I turned down the lane leading to our house, a small cottage really. Kay was on her knees, her hands working the warm soil, planting always more flowers.

At seven months, she was obviously pregnant; Kayleigh filling her womb like a small watermelon. As I knelt to give my lovely Kay a kiss, I heard a small whimper off to the side. I looked over at Jonathon, lying asleep in the warm sun, dreaming the mysterious dreams of a two year old.