Lane Assignments

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Two years later... late May 2013

CPOV

The dark skies and the spattering of rain against the windows reflect my current mood. I am depressed, pissed off... mad at the world. School just let out for the year, and a third successful season of coaching at Montesano has come and gone. I have over two months of free time stretching out in front of me, and I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do with it.

I'm twenty-nine, but I feel forty-nine. And I'm pretty sure that my hair is starting to thin on top with all the tugging I've been doing. Natalie left an hour ago, and I'm sitting in the living room of our house - the house that we bought together - staring at the large map of the United States that's hanging above the couch. It's our 'marathon in all fifty states' map, with pins indicating the races we've run so far. Chicago... Detroit... Columbus... Seattle... Portland... San Francisco. It was once something fun, a mutual goal. But now it just highlights the path of our failing marriage.

We ran Seattle after we didn't pregnant on our own, Portland after the first failed round of IVF, San Francisco after the second. San Francisco was in July, so we stayed in the Bay Area for a week's vacation. We took in all the sights and tried to relax and reconnect. Two days after the marathon, we were walking down a steep sidewalk and I felt an ominous pop in my knee. And then it buckled, giving out beneath me. My ACL was shot and running - one of the fraying threads that was holding us together - was out.

I rub my fingers along the four-inch scar that spans the length of my knee. A surgical repair and months of rehab had me walking normally - at least on flat ground - by the time track season came this year.

Late last fall, we agreed to do IVF a third and final time. We had two remaining embryos, and by taking a mortgage out on the house, we were able to manage the cost. Third time's a charm, right? Well, it wasn't for us because we came up empty. Again.

Two months ago, Natalie started pushing for a fourth round, which meant a whole new egg retrieval. And selling one of our cars. And taking a loan from her parents. And I said no. I put my foot down. I tried to reason with her... that we should take the money from the car and her parents and put it toward an adoption. But she wanted to have the experience of being pregnant. She thought we wouldn't feel the same connection with an adopted child. Of all people, I should know that isn't true. My siblings and I are all adopted! But she wouldn't hear of it, wouldn't budge.

And so we were at an impasse. And the next thing I knew, she was taking a job with a firm in Seattle. It was a good career move and she was moving in with her parents temporarily. But when she left earlier today? She took all of her things... her clothes, her books, her grandmother's china. I don't think she's coming back, and I guess that means we're separated... probably headed for the big D. Divorce.

I'm about to run my hands through my much-abused hair again when I spot the corner of a book sticking out from under the couch. Natalie took her little side table where she always kept a book or twelve, leaving four circular indentations in the rug. I walk over and pull it out, seeing that it's one of Natalie's chick books, Wild by Cheryl Strayed. I start to toss it onto the couch, but the byline catches my eye: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail.

Sinking onto the couch, I thumb through the book and then start to read. Reading has always been Natalie's thing, not mine, but I cannot put it down. The rain continues to fall, and the day turns to evening as I read. Without even realizing it, I am making a mental list of what I'll need to hike the trail for a few days. Although the romance of being a thru hiker - hiking the entire length of the trail from Mexico to Canada - is appealing, it takes months to plan. Plus, I think a few days is all my knee can handle at this point.