starting line and moved to the side for those who wanted to break into a run. Marc and Eva waved and took off, pacing themselves to run eight-and-a-half-minute miles.
Kylee and Angela settled into a fast walk. The marathon would swing past flora and fauna of all different kinds throughout the Queenstown Lakes region. It would take them by Lake Hayes and the Shotover River and into the more familiar areas of Lake Wakatipu and Queenstown, finally ending at the Recreation Ground in the heart of the city.
As they walked, the hills grew closer, so at one point they ran on a trail situated between a smaller mountainside and the lake. The relative silence between them was only broken by the biting of their shoes against gravel and other runners passing them.
Despite Angela’s desire to ask Kylee how she was really doing, she kept her mouth shut, afraid to interrupt the peace of the moment.
“See, this isn’t so bad, is it?”
Ten miles of walking later, Kylee’s question split the air, and Angela’s heart gave a happy thump. Who was this girl initiating conversation with her mom? “Not as bad as I thought, no.”
In fact, instead of becoming tired and weighted down, like she’d anticipated, her limbs slowly became infused with more adrenaline. So this was what it felt like for her training to pay off. She still had a ways to go before being ready for the ultra-marathon, but she would take this victory, however minor.
Or maybe she just needed to acknowledge that it wasn’t minor. Maybe it was okay to say it was huge—to her, at least.
Maybe it was okay to dream a little.
Angela flashed a conspiratorial smile at Kylee. “You want to try running a bit?”
The grin that came onto Kylee’s face was answer enough. Together they picked up the speed. And ran. Gratitude welled up inside Angela and overflowed her heart into her veins, and that kept her running even beyond what she thought she could do.
Her toes ached. She had to actively ignore a hot spot on her left foot rubbing against her shoe. Her knee started to throb, and she could feel her body temperature ratcheting up. Not wanting to be left behind, her nose began running as well. They had to stop to use the restroom more than Angela would have liked—yay for the aftereffects of having carried three babies.
And yet . . . she loved every moment.
Along the banks of Lake Wakatipu, they finally reached mile twenty-one, the place most marathon runners lost steam. Angela channeled the little blue fish from one of Lilly’s favorite movies: “Just keep running, just keep running . . .”
“I know, Mom.”
Oh. She must have started saying it aloud. “Sorry.”
As they approached a water station at mile twenty-four, Angela decreased her speed, flinching at the blister that had surely formed beneath her sneaker thanks to the mixture of heat and moisture.
Still, the fire pumping in her blood was new and recognizable all at the same time. “That was amazing.”
They both grabbed water and tossed it back as they walked. The cold liquid was like heaven. To their right, the bustle of the city reminded her how far they’d come across the wilderness.
“Mom?” The small voice caused her to look over at Kylee, who stared up at her, joy shining in her eyes for the first time in . . . well, a long time.
“Yes?” Angela nearly choked on the word.
“I know I haven’t really acted like it, but . . . I’m glad you’re doing these races for Dad.”
The words were a punch to her gut—the reminder of the reason Angela was supposedly doing all of this. Why everyone assumed she was, anyway. If she were honest, she hadn’t given Wes one thought this morning, nor the last several times she’d run. Instead, training had become more about reclaiming something of a past that had been stolen from her. About finding herself again.
But it should have been about Wes and her family—shouldn’t it?
“Me too.”
They passed a few stragglers who had paused on the side of the path to survey the lake.
“How did you know you loved him?”
Angela wanted to leap for joy and groan at the same time. Her daughter was finally talking to her, but why this subject?
It shouldn’t have been so difficult to talk about Wes. In the last month since coming here, she’d had more memories from their life together pop up—many before anger had become the defining feature of their marriage. But she didn’t want