“Okay.”
Not wanting to rock the boat, I took his request very seriously. And now here’s Miss Ward, assuming she can just tag along. I take her arm and lead her away from the other parents.
“Did you sign up through the store?” I ask, as politely as I can.
“No.” She frowns. “I saw it in your email.”
“Well, you didn’t RSVP, and I said we could only have five spots. I don’t know if they can squeeze you in.” How did she see the email?
“But I did RSVP, Jen. In fact, I was probably the first to RSVP.”
I give her a quizzical look. Her gaze is steady.
“I’m always the first one to respond.”
And in that moment, I feel a huge shift in my equilibrium. I’m off balance for a nanosecond but quickly steady myself. Oh. My. God. I take a breath.
“Sasha Lewicki, I presume.”
“In the flesh.”
Pieces of the puzzle start to click into place. Miss Ward is the only one who has ever seen Sasha and her daughter, Nadine; she isn’t on the class email list and yet always knows what the emails say. Oh, my God, Asami was right! She is going to lord this over me for the rest of my life.
I’m about to launch into a hundred questions, the first one being “In God’s name, why?,” but I’m interrupted by the loudspeaker announcement that participants should start making their way to the course.
Suddenly Garth is at my elbow. “I think we should watch a few people before we do it.” I nod and allow him to lead me away. I’m completely floored, but I remember my manners and invite the group from 147 to follow us.
“Are you okay?” Garth asks as we head to the starting line.
“Yes, why?”
“You just have a really strange look on your face.”
“Just nervous, I guess.” I could tell him about the big mystery I just solved, but I don’t think he’d get it.
We all gather in line to do the course. I turn and look at my group. Kim and Carol have joined us and are giving each other a pep talk. Dr. Evil has her game face on and Ali is biting her nails. She is the one I can relate most to. Jean-Luc Baton is doing some last-minute stretches, but is momentarily distracted when Miss Ward takes off her warm-up jacket. I’m with him. Her boobs truly defy gravity. I take a moment to admire them before I turn my attention to the course.
“This is going to be fun,” Garth enthuses as we watch the first people take off. They are letting groups of two go every two minutes. The first up are two middle-aged women who I may or may not recognize from Curves. They can’t get over the wall, so they do something that never would have occurred to me: they walk around it.
The course is pretty basic, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Just like last year, the six-foot wall is the first obstacle. Then you have to carry a tire about fifty yards, then run a hundred yards, and then crawl under a net through a long mud patch. After that comes a set of monkey bars, and a fake hill to climb and then slide down the other side. Then you run through some sprinklers to get wet, and jump over the line of fire and race to the finish line.
Adrenaline is pulsing through my veins as Garth and I get closer to the starting line. I want to scream, “I’m not ready yet!,” but the truth is, I am. At this point I just want to get it over with. Especially that damn wall. I look around for Ron, hoping he realizes that I’m about to go, but I only see Chyna and Max waving at me from the sidelines.
I turn to Team 147. I see Kim Fancy and Miss Ward/Sasha Lewicki have paired up to do the course together. Huh. I thought they were mortal enemies, what with the slap and all. Competition makes for strange bedfellows. I shake my head to clear it. I can’t lose focus.
“Good luck, you guys!” I say to everyone. They all smile and give a thumbs-up. As I’m taking a last look around for Ron, some guy at the starting line tells Garth and me that we’re next. Garth takes my hand.
“You got this, Jen.” He winks at me, and then we’re off.
We run to the six-foot wall. Scenes from last year flash through my mind, and I immediately fall into my old, bad habit of trying to hoist myself over using my arms.
“Use your legs!” Garth yells to me from the top of the wall. Jesus, he’s already up there?
I remember what he’s taught me about saving my arm strength and using my legs. I grab the top of the wall and, keeping my arms straight, I frog-jump up the wall with my legs until I can hook my foot over the top and follow it with my body. I jump down the other side and wince with pain.
Garth jumps down, too.
“All good?” he asks. I nod.
We run toward the tires and each pick one up. It’s heavy but not unmanageable—more awkward than anything. I can’t run with it, but I walk as quickly as I can and am more than happy to see the place where you drop them. Garth, of course, is carrying two.
“Doing great,” he puffs as he throws his tires on the pile and we take off on the hundred-yard run. “How’s your groin?”
It’s actually hurting, but there’s no way I’m telling him that.
“Good. Fine,” I pant.
At the end of our sprint is the mud patch. We get down on our bellies and crawl through what seems like five miles of muck but in reality is only about fifty yards. I’m exhilarated as I come to the end. I jump to my feet and high-five Garth, who naturally is right there waiting for me.
The monkey bars are next. Without thinking, I jump up and grab the first one; immediately, my hands slip off and I land on my butt.
“Wipe your hands on the grass or you’ll never get a grip!” Garth yells while sailing across with ease. I rub my hands on the grass trying to get as much mud off as possible. When I grab the bars again, my hands hold tight and I scramble across.
Garth and I run up the manmade hill and then slide down the other side, which is all mud. As we do, I realize we are coming to the end. We run through the line of sprinklers to wet ourselves down and then hold hands as we jump over the fire line. I don’t even feel the heat.
As we jog to the finish line, I see my whole heart waiting for me. Mom, Dad, Max, the girls, their boyfriends, Nina, and, right in front, Ron holding an ice pack.
I run straight into the group with my arms open wide in the hopes of embracing all of them at once. There is laughter and tears and congratulations and screams of “You’re getting me dirty!” from my mother. I gratefully take the ice pack from Ron and hold it between my legs.
“I love you so much,” I tell him with tears in my eyes.
“I know.” He hugs me.
We have to make room for the other racers, so we herd ourselves over to the side and chat while we cheer on the rest of Team 147 as they cross the finish line.