Functional Threshold

Chapter One

Everyone around him looked like they were running for their lives. Urgency, desperation, and that raw, primal instinct to keep pushing harder and faster with every step, no matter how terribly your lungs and legs protested - it was no wonder that people were taken aback when Athens explained to them that this was his happy place. 

Amid the harsh exhales and pounding feet of the other runners in his vicinity, Athens wondered if any of them dreaded seeing the finish line as much as he did. Certainly not, as everyone else was most likely internally screaming for the torture to be over. It was a hot and humid evening after all, and the park they were trekking through was almost entirely composed of hills that could hardly be described as "lightly rolling" as in the course description.

Three miles, roughly five thousand meters; it was easily spanned on just about any day for all of these runners in practice, but these conditions, between the terrain and the weather, tried even the seasoned seniors who Athens strode ahead of on the outside of the last curve. He was sure that if they had the breath to, they would have cursed him aloud for taking the lead position with less than 800 meters to go. 

The distance was still formidable, just ask any track runner, but while most of the runners around him were digging down to the dregs of their fitness and mettle, Athens was flying with an almost easy confidence. This was his zone, where he excelled, and what he woke and lived for. 

It didn't mean that his chest wasn't burning with exertion or that his legs weren't heavy with fatigue and lactic acid, but Athens was comfortable being uncomfortable. He thrived in the adrenaline of fighting toward the finish line, one other competitor having given chase when he surged.

Well within the 400-meter marker, the heavy, sloppy steps of the Chatham High senior signaled that he was going for broke and losing steam rapidly. Athens didn't bother looking how close the other boy was before dropping into his finishing kick. He wouldn't calculate his efforts based on another's performance. The only racing tactic Athens employed was giving his all, no matter what those around him were doing. 

Every bounding step brought him closer to the chute and the crowd's cheering only registered as a low buzz as he threw every bit of himself into finishing the race. Breaking the thin red tape was a whirlwind of rushing dopamine, satisfaction at his victory, and the keen sting of regret that it was all over. He stopped his watch in the same instant the man with the stopwatch shouted 16:32. Slower than last week, but he couldn't be too upset with himself considering the conditions and the fact that he was walking away with the win. 

Dazed, Athens stumbled through the chute, holding out his singlet so the volunteer with the clipboard could easily mark his bib number and school.

A sweaty hand landed on his shoulder, sending impossible chills through his heated body and making the saturated hair on his arms stand on end. "Good race man." 

The comprehension moved sluggishly as all his blood was still directed toward his rapidly stiffening limbs. It was just the other guy he'd raced against congratulating him. Not a threat. There was no reason to be afraid or to anticipate pain. 

But still, even as he muttered back his own breathy "You too," the momentary terror had drained every drop of excitement that Athens had felt when won the race, and he was left with only the sickening emptiness that usually didn't sink in until several hours after the race when the endorphins wore off. 

It felt like nausea, and Athens acknowledged that it wouldn't be suspect for him to bend over and vomit, but he quelled the urge, focusing on controlling his breathing by inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth to bring his heart rate down. A small part of him was relieved that those around him wouldn't suspect his gasping breath and racing pulse as anything other than symptoms of a hard run. They'd never know that it was his shameful fright that had his heart rate still skyrocketing and his eyes blown wide.