Not Interested // R. Lewandowski

Thought Pigs Ran Faster

"Faster Schweinsteiger!" Pep calls. "Catch up to her."

Bastian growls from behind me and picks up his pace. The goal was to catch up to the person in front of you, and Bastian was not doing well against me.

"Come on Bastian." I laugh. "Pick up the pace. I thought pigs ran faster!"

Bastian chuckles evilly. He then really speeds up. I hear him just behind me, so I pick up my pace. We have to keep running until he catches up with me.

I continue to run faster. I focus on my breathing. Two steps forward. Three steps forward. Two steps forward. And so on. That's how I counted my steps because I inhale then run two steps then exhale three steps.

Next I focus on my form. I start lengthening my strides as I pick up the pace. The farther my legs get from me, the farther I want to go.

I next focus on my arms. I shake them out slightly to avoid any cramping in the shoulder area. Then I focus on making sure they're pumping straight and I'm not swinging my hips as I run.

I don't notice that Pep blew his whistle until Thomas Müller runs in front of me.

"You can stop running, Freud. Pep decided that Bastian wasn't going to catch up to you after you gained 50 meters on him." He says with his goofy grin. I read somewhere he was the jokester of the team. And Bundesliga as a whole.

That's a hard title to accomplish.

I shrug. "Do I have to stop? I'm already warmed up!" I whine. I'm still running and Thomas is barely keeping up.

"I'm not the coach! I'll go ask though." He decides. He drops off and heads in Pep's direction.

I continue to run. All my moping around had prevented me from doing this. It felt good and very therapeutic to take a calming run. Even though I'm 99.9% sure everyone's watching.

"Yo! Freud, get over here." Pep calls. I nod and run over to him. "I've decided I want you to lead the forwards in a fun run. Tomorrow, we'll focus more on football."

I nod. "I can do that."

"You heard her. All forwards follow her. If any of you slack, you'll get a nice surprise. Freud, take them anywhere as long as you're back in an hour and a half." Pep instructs.

"Anywhere?" I ask.

Pep shrugs. "As long as you aren't spotted, then yeah."

I nod. I can do that. An hour and a half is a long enough time to run. "Alright. Follow me." I say.

Robert Lewandowski, Thomas Müller, and Claudio Pizarro follow behind me. They were the three main forwards after all.

"I'm taking you guys on a tour." I say.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." Thomas jokes from behind me. He pants heavily.

"Lighten up your feet Mule, or you'll injure an ankle or two." Instantly Thomas lightens his steps. I smile to myself because he listened. "Let's talk. Hi, I'm Bella and I don't want to be on Bayern."

"Hi Bella." Thomas recites like this is some sort of Alcoholics Anonymous therapy meeting.

Despite the silliness of it, I laugh. "I come here from a women's team, I enjoy long walks on the beach, and I'm a saggitarious." I say.

Thomas laughs with me. "I'm Thomas Müller."

"Hi Thomas." All three of us reply.

"I'm a brunette, I enjoy a nice beer, and I'm a Virgo." Thomas says.