Olivia Jensen is on her way to ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ғᴀsᴛ (sprinted) wrote in remains_rpg, |
October 4th, 11:43AM. The Mike A. Myers Track and Soccer Stadium at the University of Texas. It didn’t take all that long for Olivia to move out of the Oval Office. The cat on her makeshift mattress was a nice surprise (and the note from Edward was totally unwelcome), but she didn’t pay it much attention as she started to put her things back together. It was too cute to not belong to anyone; there wasn’t any point in getting attached before it wandered away. Still, she gave it a few pets before she stepped behind the fabric she called a door and started to change into her gear. That restless, nervous feeling that had settled into her bones during her and Maizie’s — fight? disagreement? It was nothing a run couldn’t solve. Sunglasses, running belt, sunscreen, ponytail, check. She bent down to carefully lace up her shoes and made eye contact with the cat. “Don’t be here when I get back. I can’t take care of you.” It blinked back at her, unfazed, and she pouted in return before she turned to leave. 0.3 miles — 480 meters — 72 seconds. The route from the LBJ Library to the Mike A. Myers Track and Soccer Stadium was a warm-up she could do in her sleep: through the parking lot, a right on Red River St., a left on Clyde Littlefield Dr., and then she was home. Her hands settled on her hips as she caught her breath, eyes up and wary of any intruders, before she moved to the inner-most lane. Olivia tapped her right foot twice on the surface, then her left foot once, before she bent her knees and took off. 0.25 miles — 400 meters — 65 seconds. She’d come out to the track to stop thinking, to settle into the strides and motions she knew better than she knew herself. But the words from their fight echoed with every step: Maybe I should move out. I guess I just thought you liked it here. Is this because we kissed? Olivia shook her head and forced a sharp exhale as she rounded the corner towards her starting line and came to a halt. She’d need to run faster than that if she had any hope of clearing her head. 0.25 miles — 400 meters — 59 seconds. The burn in her legs was a welcome sensation, one that she threw herself into wholeheartedly as she picked up the pace. What better way was there to remember that she was alive? She saw a flash of green eyes and she stumbled, losing valuable seconds before she regained her rhythm and kept going. |