See You at the Finish Line (Run, Love, Repeat #1)

8. Adam

Base Camp 29.08 mi/ 46.8 km

I am an idiot. Deer. Deer? Did I really just call her that? I’m going to remember that fumble for the rest of my life. It’ll pop into my head when I’m falling asleep, forcing me to lie awake cringing at how embarrassing that was.

“Dude.” Caleb comes up behind me as we watch my could-be future wife run away from me as fast as she can. Considering this is a 117-hour endurance run, that’s saying something.

“I know.” I rub my hand over my face, crystals of salt from my dried-up sweat brushing off.

“You have to chill.”

“I know,” I say again, exasperated with myself.

Am I bothering her? Maybe I should give her some space so I don’t make her feel like I’m actually stalking her. I probably shouldn’t refer to her as prey. Or my future wife. If I was her, I’d be creeped out. I shake my head and bring my attention back to Caleb.

“How are your feet?” I ask. He had to take extra time at this aid station to get them taped. It sucks to get blisters this early on in an ultra, but it’ll be even worse if he doesn’t take the time to wrap them properly.

“Hurt like a bitch,” he mumbles.

I wince on his behalf. “Sorry, man. That sucks.”

“Yeah.” He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “No pain, no gain, right?”

“Right.”

He’s not wrong. None of us here running this 240-mile ultra are afraid of pain. We’re all masochists on some level. On every level.

“You ready?” he asks.

I look at the exit and when I can’t see a pair of bright blue shorts and a swinging brown ponytail, I nod. “Let’s go.”

“Bib 128, checking out,” I tell the volunteers.

“Bib 69, checking out.” Caleb snickers as he tells the volunteers his bib number.

“You’re such a child,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than when I got my bib assignment.” He beams with juvenile delight and the volunteers around us chuckle.

“Thank you for your time volunteering, everyone.” We wave as we exit the aid station, and I glance at my watch.

Just under four hours into this race and it’s time to gear up for the next twelve miles, or nineteen kilometres. Breaking the course up into segments makes the mental load of running this many miles in a row easier to bear. This isn’t going to be the hardest part of the course by any means, but it’s getting hot. We’ll be hiking a lot along this stretch to conserve energy .

After a few miles of peaceful silence on the trail, thunder booms without much warning as dark clouds consume the raging heat of the sun. Cloud cover turns the vibrant, red rock into a shadowy, ominous landscape.

“Shit,” I mutter. Caleb and I unbuckle our hydration vests and get our rain shells out of our packs. I secure my hat and sunglasses, then extend my hiking poles as water begins to pour from the sky like a tidal wave. The path that was dry, dusty terrain just a moment ago is now a mudslide, forcing our steps to slow and encasing our shoes in muck and red clay.

The force of the rain continues to batter us as we make it to the peak of Jacob’s Ladder. We’ve heard the view from the top peak is usually pretty incredible, but the highly anticipated scene is obscured by raging rain, our gazes firmly planted on the mud as we try to keep our footing steady on the rocks.

A pit grows in my stomach as I think of her, wishing I knew her name. I hope she found a companion to help her through this difficult weather. Maybe we’ll catch up to her and I can keep her safe. Brightening at the thought, I pick up my pace.

“Easy there, Adam,” Caleb warns, my quickening footsteps causing me to slip and slide. “You won’t be any help to her if you fall off the damn cliff.”

Though I know he’s right, I don’t slow down.

The rain eventually lets up and we make our way to the Base Camp aid station in a little over three and a half hours. Not ideal timing, but we couldn’t have planned for the sudden thunderstorm.

“128,” I say, checking in .

“69,” Caleb says behind me.

I crane my neck, looking for the blue rain shell matching the shorts she was wearing this morning, but I can’t see her.

“She’ll be here, man,” Caleb reassures me as volunteers hand us warm towels.

“Has Bib 145 checked out?” I ask one of the volunteers named Lucy. She looks at her clipboard and then slowly shakes her head.

“No, it looks like Paige hasn’t even checked in yet.”

Paige.

Finding out her name hits me like a bolt of lightning.

“She was in front of us when we left Amasa Back.” I try not to let the worry overtake me.

“It’s possible you passed her. Or she found some shelter and hunkered down to wait it out. The rain was pretty heavy.” Lucy pats me on the arm and then goes to check in the next runner, who is also not Paige.

My leg bounces up and down in my chair as I eat my third slice of watermelon. I’ve already downed a whole cheeseburger, but my body feels empty. It’s been twenty minutes and she’s still not here. Caleb is chomping at the bit to get going, but I want to wait a little longer, so I take my time eating. I take my time going to the bathroom. I take my time changing my socks and getting my gear back on.

It’s been thirty minutes now and she still has not shown up. I stand abruptly.

“Finally,” Caleb mutters .

“You should go on ahead,” I tell him, jogging over to the check-in point.

Caleb follows me. “Adam, what are you doing?”

“Any sign of Paige?” I ask Lucy.

“Sorry, Adam, she’s not here yet and hasn’t made contact.” Worry crinkles the sides of her face and that’s the last straw. I turn to face Caleb, bracing myself for his temper.

“I’m going back.”

“You can’t.” Both Lucy and Caleb speak at the same time.

“You’ve already checked in, you could be disqualified,” Lucy insists. I yank the clipboard out of her hands and use the eraser until no trace of my name exists.

“Are you going to rat me out?” I ask her. She stares daggers at me, but I don’t care.

“If you’re not back in two hours, I’m letting the race officials know,” she says under her breath.

“Thank you.”

Caleb grabs my arm, stopping me. “Adam, you don’t even know her.”

“What do you want me to do? She could be in trouble.”

“You don’t know this woman, and you’re going to ditch me for her?”

“I’m not ditching you Caleb, I just ... I don’t know, I feel like she’s in trouble.”

Caleb shakes his head and his grip tightens.

“You don’t owe her anything. ”

I yank my arm out of his hold, not understanding how he could be so callous.

“She might need help.”

“Look, just because you want to fuck her doesn’t mean she needs help.”

My face heats, my own temper flaring to meet his. “Watch it, Caleb.”

He looks surprised at my tone. I rarely call him out on his shit. I can’t say that I don’t care about Paige, but I honestly think that if it was someone else who needed help, I’d still want to go back.

“I’m sorry, Adam, it’s shitty of you to leave me by myself.”

He’s not wrong. I don’t want to leave him alone. But it’s been thirty-five minutes now and she’s still not here.

“I can’t leave her.”

Caleb sighs, resignation mixing with his anger. “She’d better be worth it.”

“Are you going to be okay without me?” I ask, knowing the question will grate on his nerves.

“Of course. I’m not a baby.”

“Okay, then I’m going back. I’ll try to catch up.” I tear down the path, hoping I’m not drawing too much attention to myself. It’s not technically against the rules, but they can threaten to remove me from the race. I could also get a time penalty. It would be worth it as long as I find her.

“Come on, Paige, where are you?” I whisper to myself.