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Writer's picturemarkmiller323

Cal.E.'s Korner


C.: Hey, d.c., I see that you’re home from the football game. How did it go?



d.: We lost, but I did get to park for free.








C.: Why did they let you do that?


d.: Because, I guess they thought I would spend just as much at the concession stand. I showed them, though. Parking was forty dollars, and I only spent $39.98 (plus an 8.25% tax).


C.: What did you buy?


d.: A six-ounce Coke.


C.: And what else did you buy?


That’s it. Anyway, I see that you drove Tucker’s car over here from Wayne Manor at the end of the street. I thought that you didn't know how to drive car with an automatic transmission.



C.: I don't. Fortunately, Tucker has a manual transmission on his car. I drove over here to ask if I could borrow your Manuscript for BEYOND THE THIRTEENTH MILE: THE IRON MAN CHRONICLES. I’m on the second half of chapter two. I have just enough time to read it before I go to work at The Kennel tonight. I read the first part on Thursday.




d.: Okay, Cal.E. Here’s the second part of


Chapter Two: Reboot.


The ten-mile bike leg was over, and I had my second wind. I readied myself for the second two-mile run. The second run was much worse than the first and before the second mile was completed, I was done for, or so I thought, as I doubled over in pain.

I was diagnosed with asthma when I was a teenager. It didn’t bother me enough to keep me from playing sports in high school, but today was different. The weather experts had given a warning, both on television and radio, for people with respiratory problems to remain indoors. The smoke from the agricultural fires in Mexico was blowing into the Greater Houston, Texas area. I had probably made an unwise decision not to heed this warning. As I was reviewing the situation, Millie came up behind me, shouting words of encouragement.

“I’ll run in with you," she said optimistically.

"Go on in," I said, downcast. "I'm done for." I began to walk and Millie, reluctantly heeding my words, ran ahead.

An attractive brunette overtook me, also shouting words of encouragement. "It's just another two or three blocks,” she said. (Author’s note: Runners often lie to each other when we think we can encourage each other, as I found out at this time.)

I trotted (slowly) to the finish line, not wanting to embarrass myself. I finished 149th out of 300 participants. An average day for an average athlete, I thought, but strangely enough, I had enjoyed myself enough to participate in the second duathlon, which would go much more smoothly. I finished five minutes faster than the first duathlon (which may or may not have been since, in the first duathlon, the first two-mile run was mis-measured, making it a 2.5-mile run.) It also brought with it a painful foot injury along with a decision to invest some money in a better bike, since my old one was too small and too slow. I had, however, enjoyed myself, and that was the most important thing to me at that time. That feeling encouraged me to explore the term ”multi-sport” event even further.


C.: Since I'm working all week, I'll need to pick up with chapter three next Sunday.

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