Rivulets of salty water dripped from her forehead as she stood panting and breathless. The music, pounding her ear drums, meant to motivate her was now loud and obnoxious. The runners pounding the Helix Bridge with shoes in shades of neon and beyond with a mission seemed like freaks. The air around her on yet another humid Singapore evening was oppressive.  The usually soothing view of the Downtown Singapore’s glass and lights failed to encourage her – they stood as roadblocks – lumps of concrete and glass blocking her from the mission. She found the strength to breathe through the exhaustion and pulled out her water bottle for a much needed drink. Watching the Merlion spitting out water endlessly, she debated if she should cut short her run and just take a cab home.

“Focus. Focus on your breathing. Just like in the yoga classes. Deep inhale, exhale” she coached herself. Running threw her out of her comfort zone. She preferred the comforts of her air-conditioned Zumba and Pilates studio but running was a challenge. She was training for her first and hopefully last marathon. “Midlife crisis” she muttered under her breath as she cursed herself for attempting to run. She read somewhere that running a marathon is one of those signs of midlife hitting urban professionals. She had laughed at it then. Laughed and then went on to dream about running a marathon. “Foolishness” she scolded herself. Foolish to share her dream and get into a challenge. Since childhood, she never backed out of a challenge and she was not going to get into the habit now.

“I am not losing it now – especially to him. I will get through this”, she resolved and started jogging on the trail. She concentrated on placing one foot in front of another and avoiding pedestrians when she first caught a glimpse of him. It was unmistakably him. He did not stand out. He blended in. He was just another Asian face you would encounter. The one you will see clad in perfectly fitting black trousers and crisp formal shirt in shades ranging between white and blue with fingers flying over the smartphone keyboard in the crowded train. He did not go way out to let the world know he existed instead he blended in.

Bright blue running shoes, toned calves, standard running gear of old marathon tee shirt and shorts, drink bottle tucked in one of those carriers and headphones firmly in place – he ran. He ran with grace and ease of a seasoned runner. Weaving in and out as he ran with determination. She did not have to think twice. She just started following him. Stalking him. It was easy. She kept his back in sight as her feet pounded the ground. They ran, in sync. He led the way. She followed. Away from Marina Bay Sands towards the Barrage. The passing scenes did not interest her. She paid no heed to the tourists, the locals, the construction barricades, the humidity and the humdrum of life around her.

She did not realize how far or how long she had run. Her breathing was laboured, her hair soaked in sweat but her mind had images of him flashing. He was the beacon signalling her to safety and she followed blindly. “Is this even safe?” she wondered. “I probably need to be more aware of where I am and what I am doing”, the rational part of her reasoned. It was not time for rationality. It was time to follow her heart or rather his feet.

“TURN” she wanted to scream.  “Please turn” she mentally begged him. Hoping without hope that he could hear her inner voice. He neither turned nor slowed down. “Does he even know I am following him? Is he in a zone where he doesn’t pay heed to anything or anyone? Will he acknowledge me? Are there others doing the same thing I am doing? Stalking a runner?” Questions bombarded her mind. She ran following the white tee with the “42.195 km FINISHER” embellished in the back.

To the unobserved, they were just two runners in the midst of many.  Runners engulfed in their own world of sweat, pain, music, pleasure and highs. Some ran in joy. Some in grief. Some ran to gain and others to lose. She ran angry at herself but happy to follow him. She wondered what was on his mind. Was he thinking about dinner? Or was it work? Did he hurt himself? The questions did not stop. She focussed on him – his movements, his unknown emotions, the blue running shoes and those legs. He was her salvation. Her survival.

“Damn him” she cursed when she realized he was not going to stop at the waterfront. They prodded along in unison. He led. She followed. Finally he stopped and sat down on the steps under the Super Trees – gigantic man-made solar panels. Wiping down his face and taking a swig from his bottle all in one practised fluid move, he said “Not bad. Not at all bad for a beginner” as she hunched down panting next to him. “Is your ankle acting up again?” she asked as she stretched out in the grass exhausted. “The usual” he said linking up his hands with hers and resting his head besides her. Together they watched the moon rise in the horizon in silence. Blue, green, red and yellow lights danced over the skies as the daily night show began its run.

Weeks later, right before the finish line he was waiting for her. As always he led, she followed. “You should not have waited for me. You should have crossed” she panted, holding out her hand. They linked hands as they crossed the finish line together. “You did it Dee. Not bad for a first-timer”. His words had all the pride and joy her face reflected. “First and last time. Don’t challenge me again Mr.Lee” she laughed. “Your dream Mrs.Lee. It all started with a dream”

I am attempting to write short scenes for the April A to Z challenge. I randomly select words and write something around it. I wrote this scene a few weeks back with much input from my runner friend in Singapore – Santhi. Thanks Santhi for your help and feedback. This one is for you! Keep running! 

This post is a part of the April A to Z challenge. 26 days, 26 letters and 26 short stories. Come back tomorrow for more.