A/N: Yeah, I know. I start everything I write with an author's note; but, I don't mind reading them and I think that everyone else doesn't mind reading them. Plus, I really like to give shout-outs to the awesome people: My beta gaben; who is totally amazing and solves my obsessive use of semi-colons. The people that take the extra minute to review, the extra couple seconds to favorite or alert: AliasMarie, Always-Underrated, gaben (who not only betas but also reviews), MavenAlysse, saides, Sprite91360 (who lets me steal from her awesome stories!), WhiskeySkye, and the mysterious Kelly. You all rock! And to everyone who reads this: Thanks for taking the time, I really appreciate it!
Chapter 7: The Wind Beneath My Wings
Eliot could feel the sweat running down his back. He could feel the burn in his lungs. He could feel the cool air on his skin. The sun was almost up, he loved mornings like this: Mornings where he had the time for a long run. And running up here at his weekend house meant that he could go trail running.
His lungs were starting to burn and his legs were starting to feel like lead. But, Eliot kept running, taking in deep breaths. Feeling what was left of the night air at the bottom of his lungs and trying to stay light on his feet as they hit the dirt and leaves that were damp from the dew. In the city he ran with Parker three days a week or so. It had been kind of odd at first running with someone; it had been many years since he'd run with anyone. And then it had been his teammates. None of whom had been a petite blonde female!
The first few runs with Parker had been really odd. Eliot had been expecting runs like the jogs he'd had with his girlfriends: Two to three miles at an absurdly slow pace. But, no Parker had kept up with him while he'd run at the 'girlfriend pace' and then announced in her characteristically blunt manner that she was warmed up and was going for a real run. That had made the retrieval specialist realize just how much of an athlete the lithe thief was. So now, three days a week the hitter and the thief ran together. Depending on the day, the weather, their mood, and the moon cycle all determined their route: Were they going to do a short series of sprints, a long run, or something completely different.
They'd fallen into a routine of alternating who chose the route and the type of run they did. Parker used running to compliment her gymnastics, and flexibility, and strength training, rather than just endurance and fitness. Some of the runs the little thief had put them on were pure torture. They were worse than when he'd been on the teams! And that was saying something. Last week she'd decided stairs was a good workout, so they'd run to the Back Bay and then run up and down all sixty floors of the John Hancock building. And then back to McRory's.
This morning he was running through the woods near his house. It was a lot slower than running on trails in and around the city; which suited him just fine. The trails he ran out here were animal trails; they weren't designed and groomed for people. This run was like an old friend that you didn't see a lot. Eliot didn't run this route too much; he didn't want to disturb the deer or to become predictable. But, this was still his favorite run; it went across a field (well the edges of it), over an old stone wall that bordered the north side of the field, through the woods, over a creek and into the State's lands. Just because it was his favorite run, had some of the most beautiful scenery in all of New England didn't mean it was an easy run. It was actually one of the harder runs in the area; thanks to a combination of the terrain and trails.
Eliot stuck his arm out to prevent his face getting hit by a branch and kept running. About ten feet in front of him he saw a nice set of deer prints, he didn't slow down as he went past them. But, he did notice that they were fresh. As he kept up his steady pace on the edge of the woods he thought about how there wasn't any dew in the print, which meant that it was pretty fresh. So the deer had probably walked across the trail after the sun had set because the dew had settled about seven. Which meant that the deer had probably been walking about eight-thirty, because deer weren't nocturnal and typically settled down somewhere for the night.
He kept running, feeling the sweat running down his back and the tightness in his lung; but, relished the luxury being able to run without having to look over his shoulder, too much. Eliot happily pushed his muscle fatigue out of his mind and continued down the trail dodging the tree roots, rocks, and branches. This was a completely different style of running than what he and Parker did in Boston! He could smell the damp forest smell where he was crushing the moss, dead leaves and tufts of grass under his feet.
It was mornings like this that made Eliot glad to be alive. Having the time and the ability to run through the New England forests was a true luxury! When he was out here at his country house it gave him time alone, a time where he could think clearly and listen to the birds waking up. In the city most of the time he ran with Parker and that was a whole 'nother experience. She tended to jabber as she ran: Oohing and ahhing at the sights. Once the hitter had asked her why she ran: She'd stared at him and cocked her head to one side like she was trying to figure out what he wanted to hear. Finally she'd said that it let her do the things she needed to do; and it was like happy juice.
"Happy juice." That had made Eliot shake his head until he thought about it for a second. Then it made perfect sense. Strenuous exercise makes a person release endorphins, and those endorphins combined with adrenalin let a runner keep going through the pain. And literally create a high which in some people creates a feeling of euphoria or happiness. He'd read a couple of articles on it. Medical journals were typically dry enough that they worked well as a soporific and reading them in the evening would help the insomniac hitter feel sleepy.
Right now, eight miles into his ten mile trail run, Eliot was feeling the runner's high! This was living! He could smell the scents of the early morning forest; see the mist rising off the stream to his left, and the spot where the deer had slept on the edge of the alfalfa field to his right. He could feel his lungs burning, and knew he was alive.
Eliot sprinted to the top of the last big hill; from here he could see the smoke from his chimney. Pumping his fists Rocky style he thought to himself: Yes! This is the life!
E/N: Yep, and now to a commercial break insert shameless plug/: So go check out my profile page and read the rest of my awesome fics. I cover a variety of fandoms, and like everyone else I love hearing from you all.
Thanks to Escaping The Past for confirming (to me) that Eliot was in the United States Navy! All I can say to that is Go Navy! Beat Army! Whoot! Whoot!
And if you have questions watch (or rewatch) The San Lorenzo Job – Eliot is referred to as Commander in it. And Commander, in the United States is only a rank in the United States Navy. Not the Army, the Marines, or the Air Force. Although, he could have been a puddle pirate, as in being a Coast Guard officer; but, he's Eliot. He'd be a real military person; hence, United States Navy.
And again: Go Navy! Beat Army!