lifted her left hand in acknowledgment, but otherwise kept moving. Half a block later, she realized something. She was smiling.
15
P ace yourself. Running faster only when you’re in front of me isn’t teaching you anything except about how to fake it.” Sabrina had to call the words out to Brandy as she ran by for another lap around the block.
Brandy had been a diligent worker both Monday and today without a single complaint about the early start time. Mrs. Jenkins had informed Nana that she was being shown an unprecedented level of respect and this had truly been a turnaround experience. Somehow Sabrina felt a little less optimistic, but that’s what grandmothers were supposed to do, so more power to them. Neither Sabrina nor Brandy mentioned the weekend’s debacle and the subsequent fallout. It had been relegated to exactly where Sabrina liked things that were unchangeable—in the past and forgotten.
Brandy disappeared around the corner and Sabrina looked down at the stopwatch, noting the time. She tried to picture Brandy, who just about now should be rounding the corner in front of the Benders’ house. Their little dachshund was likely pacing around the tidy lawn, poking his long black nose throughthe slats of the freshly painted white picket fence. He’d yap a time or two each time she passed, then return to his pacing until the next round.
Sabrina could almost feel the ball of her foot absorbing the impact, the strain of her thigh muscles, the way her lungs needed just a bit more oxygen. The pure joy that could only be accomplished by the wind in your hair, entirely controlled by your own muscles, your own speed, your own willingness to override the body’s urge to stop and to keep moving further, harder, faster, to the place where only champions would dare to push themselves. How long had it been since she’d felt that? Its absence burned inside her; at times like this the heat became almost unbearable.
Stop. Nothing good was to be gained by crying over what you couldn’t have, no matter how hard you worked for it or how badly you wanted it. Or how much more you deserved it than the people who actually might achieve it. Brandy rounded the corner.
“What makes you think I’m slowing down when I’m out of your sight?” She called out the words between gasping breaths.
Sabrina held up the stopwatch. “The clock never lies.”
“Great. Just great.” Brandy huffed past, her face red from exertion.
“Slow your pace the entire round this time. It’s time for a cool-down lap.”
Brandy cast a backward glance over her shoulder, clearly surprised, but she did slow her pace a bit. Sabrina watched her take the corner, then looked toward the sky, toward God, whose voice she had misunderstood. Maybe she’d never even heard it at all. It wasn’t that she’d lost her faith in God, it was more that she’d lost her faith in ever understanding Him.
Well, there was no reason to sit here and feel sorry for herself about the whole thing. The best she could do now was move forward with this new reality. Always push forward. It had workedin running, and it would work in life. Launching her career in the best possible way was the thing she needed to think about now. This was where she had some level of control.
She looked down at her communications book, thankful for the streetlight overhead, and began to review the chapter they’d just covered in class. That was one nice thing about the days she and Brandy worked distance rather than sprints: it gave her a chance to do some studying while Brandy was out of sight. Multitasking was a good thing. And with at least half of the current page highlighted in pink, it was obvious there was much she needed to remember.
A minute later, Brandy coasted to a stop in front of her, then paced back and forth, cooling down. “How come you cut this morning short?” Her eyes were bright in spite of the fact that she was breathing heavily.
“I didn’t. We’re done for
15
P ace yourself. Running faster only when you’re in front of me isn’t teaching you anything except about how to fake it.” Sabrina had to call the words out to Brandy as she ran by for another lap around the block.
Brandy had been a diligent worker both Monday and today without a single complaint about the early start time. Mrs. Jenkins had informed Nana that she was being shown an unprecedented level of respect and this had truly been a turnaround experience. Somehow Sabrina felt a little less optimistic, but that’s what grandmothers were supposed to do, so more power to them. Neither Sabrina nor Brandy mentioned the weekend’s debacle and the subsequent fallout. It had been relegated to exactly where Sabrina liked things that were unchangeable—in the past and forgotten.
Brandy disappeared around the corner and Sabrina looked down at the stopwatch, noting the time. She tried to picture Brandy, who just about now should be rounding the corner in front of the Benders’ house. Their little dachshund was likely pacing around the tidy lawn, poking his long black nose throughthe slats of the freshly painted white picket fence. He’d yap a time or two each time she passed, then return to his pacing until the next round.
Sabrina could almost feel the ball of her foot absorbing the impact, the strain of her thigh muscles, the way her lungs needed just a bit more oxygen. The pure joy that could only be accomplished by the wind in your hair, entirely controlled by your own muscles, your own speed, your own willingness to override the body’s urge to stop and to keep moving further, harder, faster, to the place where only champions would dare to push themselves. How long had it been since she’d felt that? Its absence burned inside her; at times like this the heat became almost unbearable.
Stop. Nothing good was to be gained by crying over what you couldn’t have, no matter how hard you worked for it or how badly you wanted it. Or how much more you deserved it than the people who actually might achieve it. Brandy rounded the corner.
“What makes you think I’m slowing down when I’m out of your sight?” She called out the words between gasping breaths.
Sabrina held up the stopwatch. “The clock never lies.”
“Great. Just great.” Brandy huffed past, her face red from exertion.
“Slow your pace the entire round this time. It’s time for a cool-down lap.”
Brandy cast a backward glance over her shoulder, clearly surprised, but she did slow her pace a bit. Sabrina watched her take the corner, then looked toward the sky, toward God, whose voice she had misunderstood. Maybe she’d never even heard it at all. It wasn’t that she’d lost her faith in God, it was more that she’d lost her faith in ever understanding Him.
Well, there was no reason to sit here and feel sorry for herself about the whole thing. The best she could do now was move forward with this new reality. Always push forward. It had workedin running, and it would work in life. Launching her career in the best possible way was the thing she needed to think about now. This was where she had some level of control.
She looked down at her communications book, thankful for the streetlight overhead, and began to review the chapter they’d just covered in class. That was one nice thing about the days she and Brandy worked distance rather than sprints: it gave her a chance to do some studying while Brandy was out of sight. Multitasking was a good thing. And with at least half of the current page highlighted in pink, it was obvious there was much she needed to remember.
A minute later, Brandy coasted to a stop in front of her, then paced back and forth, cooling down. “How come you cut this morning short?” Her eyes were bright in spite of the fact that she was breathing heavily.
“I didn’t. We’re done for
Similar Books
