"Robert Reed - X-Country" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

tracking and wilderness survival who admitted that he had ignored the various game
trails that Kip had used, preferring to follow his instincts overland. The top woman
was his eleven-year-old daughterтАФa bright beaming girl more thrilled by the silver
trophy than by any bland check for a thousand dollars.

From what I could tell, speed had nothing to do with the finishing order.

Luck was what mattered. And persistence. Maturity was also a positive, since
the majority of the finishers were my age or olderтАФback-of-the-pack joggers who
attacked the course as a morning-long adventure.

One graybeard held a rag to his face, mopping up the blood streaming from a
tangle of thorn cuts. тАЬYouтАЩre the lucky one,тАЭ he told me. тАЬYou didnтАЩt have to go up
there.тАЭ

I was feeling lucky, but only to a point.

тАЬNext year?тАЭ asked the male champion. тАЬIs there going to be a Second Annual
Hill-Hell Run?тАЭ

But Kip never quite replied. He looked at us, his brain probably formulating an
empty answer, and then half a hundred voices screamed together, everyone laughing
painfully, begging, тАЬNo way, please God, no!тАЭ

After that, like gas under pressure, everyone dispersed. Kip crammed his gear
into the little BMWтАФeverything, that is, but the cooler and buckets of Popsicle
sticksтАФand then he drove me back to my car.

тАЬThanks for the help, Don,тАЭ he told me.

I tried to find encouraging words. But the man didnтАЩt act concerned about
how he looked to the world. He was smiling like a maniac, and all I could think of
saying was, тАЬLater.тАЭ

With a last little wink, he lied to me. тАЬSoon,тАЭ he said. And with a little wave
and a flash of blond hair, Kip was gone.

****

I drove home, leaving my athletic life in storage.

Over those next days and weeks, with my hip aching and the rest of my body
feeling ancient, I considered what kind of treasure IтАЩd like to dig up on a tropical
beach. A new hip, sure, and maybe a couple new legs too. And then, almost against
my will, I discovered that the average day is full of fertile time when you cannot run.
What astonished me most was how quickly I grew accustomed to being crippled
and how much I looked forward to my doctorsтАЩ appointments.
 I planned to ride my bike during the November marathon, but it was a cold,
raw morning, and I overslept, waking up late and without a hint of regret.