Cross Country
Truth be told, if anyone had told him back home he'd be teaching people how to run, he would have laughed in their faces, but he had to admit his class seemed to be going well. The idea had started when Cissie asked for help surviving her Cardio class, but actually teaching was something he never thought he'd enjoy, let alone be good at. Now here he was, instructing his girlfriend and two more in the thing he did best. He sometimes felt a twinge of guilt for spending most of his time with his newer students, teaching things that Cissie already knew, but it seemed to be working. They needed more work to get to where he wanted, but he wasn't pushing. The point was self-knowledge, and how to run, not being able to beat particular times or run specific courses.
As his watch beeped, he turned towards the Compound and showers, grinning as he watched his students get that burst of energy that often came when you knew the end was in sight.
"Okay, ladies, let's get back and cool down. Don't overdo it just because we're on the home stretch," he warned, even though he knew by now it was probably unnecessary. "We'll do wind sprints on the beach next class, working on getting that speed up without burning out. I want you to know how fast you can go for how long. Breaking a speed record doesn't do you any good if you end up like the guy running the first marathon."
Okay, maybe that was a bad joke, but he was trying. If he was going to to teach running in a place where you might be running from something really dangerous, times on a clock were just reference points. Maybe Tim had rubbed off more than he'd thought.
[Timed for Wednesday evening, Bart's Cross-country running class. Tag each other, tag Bart, have at.]
As his watch beeped, he turned towards the Compound and showers, grinning as he watched his students get that burst of energy that often came when you knew the end was in sight.
"Okay, ladies, let's get back and cool down. Don't overdo it just because we're on the home stretch," he warned, even though he knew by now it was probably unnecessary. "We'll do wind sprints on the beach next class, working on getting that speed up without burning out. I want you to know how fast you can go for how long. Breaking a speed record doesn't do you any good if you end up like the guy running the first marathon."
Okay, maybe that was a bad joke, but he was trying. If he was going to to teach running in a place where you might be running from something really dangerous, times on a clock were just reference points. Maybe Tim had rubbed off more than he'd thought.
[Timed for Wednesday evening, Bart's Cross-country running class. Tag each other, tag Bart, have at.]