Friday, 8/15/08

For the first time since starting his routine in early July, he was picking up his pace halfway up the hill that led to Thompson's Park. His stride was long and strong. It felt good. It hadn't always been painful heading up this slope, but it had never felt good. He accelerated further. It was a warm day for the western North Carolina hills, but there was a bit of a breeze and most of his route was shaded, so it was managable. It reminded him of summer at home. Every 10 seconds or so, the breeze would be artifically enhanced by the downwash of a car or truck headed down NC 141 in the Friday afternoon rush hour. Running on the shoulder, Jorge took in both the fumes and the fresh air. He checked his watch as he approached the top of the hill about a mile from home and right at 2 miles from where he had started it.

"10:56!"

It was nearly 30 seconds faster than he done in any of his previous personal time trials. Moreover, he wasn't really even winded. He jogged the last mile with a broad smile and even high-fived a few of the road signs as he cooled down. Eventually coasting to a stop as he wound down the short lane that led from busy NC 141 to his home, he walked the last 100 yards down his family's gravel driveway. With a wipe of shirt bottom to prevent any dripping sweat from hitting the floor, he swept through the back door and hollered out, "Mamá, he hecho mi decisión."