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

stomping grounds. On the trails outside Enderville. What do you think?”

“When?”

“This October,” he said. “If there’s a free weekend.”

Our local marathon was at the beginning of November, and there was a
tune-up 15K four weeks earlier. But those other weekends were probably available.

“Sounds like fun,” I allowed.

“I hope it sounds fun.” Then he glanced at me. “You know, I just had an idea.
Just this minute.”

I didn’t believe him. Something about his manner felt false. Although why that
was and why I remember a detail like that, I don’t know. And besides, what did it
matter when he actually dreamed up anything?

“I’ll have to map out a course,” he said.

I didn’t know the hill country. But I’d driven past it on occasion, and from the
highway, those bluffs seemed brutally rough.

“Prize money,” he said. “What do you think?”

“It’s up to you.”

“As an incentive,” he explained.

“Are you going to run the race yourself?” I asked.

“I shouldn’t, no.” Laughing quietly, he pointed out, “I’ll have too much to do
just running the finish line.”
 That was welcome news. I told Kip, “Prize money would be an exceptionally
good thing.”

“How much?”

“As much as you can afford,” I suggested, working hard to sound as if I
might, just might, be kidding.

****

Kip had a huge box of entry forms printed up, and he asked some of the
quicker runners to help put them on windshields after the Sassafras 5K. I agreed, but
as it happened, my right hip—my touchy hip—started hurting during the second
mile, pulling me back into the middle of the pack. By the time I finished, I was
limping, and by the time I found Kip, the chore was done.

“Ice,” Kip suggested, noting my rocking gait.