At Monday’s practice, Dave had all the boys sit at the picnic table next to the fence. Jake was glad to sit down. He stretched his legs out under the table. He wondered what Dave would ask them to do today. Mixed-up Monday. Could be anything. He could feel his ankle throbbing. He’d thought about taping it but knew that would give him away. He figured if he just tied his spikes tight enough, he should be okay. Tough it out, he thought. But it hurt.
Dave stood at one end of the table, put a foot up on the bench and started by asking each of them how their weekend had gone. Tony had survived the twins’ birthday party, but just barely. Shawn had had a video game-and-pizza party. Sam had gone to his brother’s high-school science fair. Paul had nailed his rendition of the Star Wars theme at the recital and then spent the rest of the weekend making a log cabin for Social Studies. He showed them the poison ivy on his leg from collecting sticks in the woods and the two burns on his fingers from using a glue gun to stick them together. Dave shook his head. “Guess we’ll have to take it easy on you today,” he said with a laugh.
Jake let out a long, slow sigh. He hoped that meant the practice would be easy on everyone.
“What about you, Jake?” asked Dave. “Good weekend?”
“Oh.” Jake smiled, then shrugged. “Not bad.” He didn’t want to say he’d been running, and he couldn’t think of anything else.
Dave nodded. “Okay, gents, today we’re going to talk a little bit about something called bonking.”
Shawn pretended to cuff Paul on the side of the head. “Bonk.”
Tony slid his shoulder into Sam’s on one side, then into Jake’s on the other. “Bonk.”
Dave laughed. “Not that kind of bonking. What I’m referring to is that feeling of hitting a wall in your race. You can get to a point when you feel you just can’t go any further. Your brain tells your legs to quit. Or your legs tell your brain, That’s it, we’re done.” The boys nodded. They knew how that felt.
“Now, some of this is physical,” continued Dave. “It has to do with diet, especially with what you ate in the days and the hours before the race. And also if you’ve had enough to drink and just what it was you filled your tank up with. You guys know all about this, but sometimes you still have to remind yourselves to do it, to choose the right stuff and to get enough of it at the right time.”
Jake considered telling them about the pickle juice but decided he’d keep that to himself for now.
“A big part of bonking is also mental. Picture one of Shawn’s video games. Sometimes it seems your character is stuck in whatever world he’s in, but if you explore the walls a little, you’ll come across a little door to escape through. The same thing happens in running. When you feel you’ve hit a wall, look for that little door. Don’t quit. Tell yourself it’s there, and you’ll probably find it. You boys understand what I’m talking about?”
“Sure, Dave.” They nodded.
“Okay then.”
They got up from the picnic table and did some stretching. “We’re going to start with a light run today,” said Dave, clapping Paul lightly on the shoulder. “Follow the paths through twice.” Everyone started to jog away. Jake made sure his shoes were tied tightly enough.
“Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want you to overdo it today. I know you’ve got the city run tomorrow.”
Jake nodded.
“How’s that going?”
“Pretty good.”
“Ankle okay?”
“Sure. Just a little tender.”
Dave’s eyebrows went up a little. “Let’s see.”
Jake loosened the laces again.
“Still a fair bit of swelling,” said Dave. “I thought it would be okay after you rested it for the weekend. Hmm. You must have hurt it worse than I thought. Okay. Well, go home then.”
“What?” Jake looked up. “It’s fine, Dave. I can run. It’s fine.”
“No, go. You want to be your best for tomorrow, don’t you?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then go home, Jake. Put the ankle on ice. Keep it up. Watch a movie or read a book about running if you want to, but don’t do any.”
“But…”
Dave put a hand on his shoulder. “But nothing. You need to listen to what your body is telling you. Go home and rest. Don’t worry. A day off won’t hurt your race any.”
“It won’t?”
“No, but a bum ankle will.”
By seven thirty that evening, Jake had had enough of hanging around the house. He needed to go for a run. Just a short one. He changed into some running gear and was tying his shoes when the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Jake?”
“Yes.”
“Dave Driscoll.”
“Hi, Dave.”
“Just checking that you’re staying off that foot.”
“Absolutely. Just sitting here watching Chariots of Fire.”
“Great.”
How did he do that?
Jake’s mom came through the kitchen. “Chariots of Fire? I love that movie. Mind if I watch it with you, Jake?”
Twenty minutes into it, his dad came in too. Then Luke. Halfway through, they paused the disc and made popcorn. They hadn’t had a movie night in ages.
“I just love that story,” Jake’s mom said with a sigh when it was over. She stood up to put the popcorn bowl and glasses on a tray. “And the music.” Jake’s dad was snoring in one of the La-Z-Boys. Luke was asleep and snoring too, sprawled over one end of the couch. “Not that kind of music,” she said as she threw a cushion at each of them. “Rise and shine, fellas!”
“That reminds me,” she said. “Jake, I got an email today from Mrs. Bradley. She says she’s caught you sleeping in class a couple of times in the last few weeks. She wonders if you’re getting enough sleep or if there’s something bothering you that’s keeping you awake at night.”
“I get lots of sleep,” protested Jake. “I make sure I get lots of sleep.”
“I know you do.”
Jake’s dad stood up and stretched. “I know he does too. Cut out of the hockey game the other night before the second period was over to make sure he got to bed on time! He shoots, he snores!”
“Maybe it’s those early-morning runs. Maybe you’re running too much. If it’s affecting your schoolwork…”
“Mom, it was probably during math class. Sam’s the mathamagician, not me.”
“Who’s Sam?”
“My fr—” He stopped. “This guy I know from the running club. And maybe it happened once in grammar. I don’t mean to. Nouns and pronouns are just not that exciting, you know.”
Luke looked up groggily. “It’s unavoidable,” he agreed. “It’s the number slumber.”
“The comma coma,” said Jake.
Luke nodded. “I’ve been known to catch a few z’s in class myself.”
Everyone laughed.