They had dinner at the table where Tobias had cooked pasta, simple but good. Elena was famished because the airplane food was insufficient and Darius ate cut-up pasta in his high chair for a toddler meal.
Elena told some stories about the Olympic village and other athletes and training in Paris prior to the games. She spoke very briefly about the race and didn't linger on the bronze medal, then talked about post-race media and how much she missed home the entire time.
Darius listened intently to every word about how she prepared for the race and her training block and race strategy. A professional athlete was speaking about running shop, albeit in a manner that was toned down for family dinner, and he was learning.
Elena paused mid-story and gazed at Darius. He was fixated on her completely; not fidgeting like most three year olds do when being spoken to, simply listening, really listening.
"Are you okay baby?"
"Yes," he replied. "Tell me more."
While the words were simple his intention was crystal-clear.
"He's obsessed," Tobias stated.
"I can tell," Elena replied. "Want to be a runner when you grow up?"
"Yes!" Darius exclaimed enthusiastically and immediately.
Elena smiled. "We'll run together. When you're big enough."
Later, after dinner, Darius was getting sleepy due to the long exciting day. Elena chose to put him to bed since she missed the bedtime routine. She took him upstairs.
The bath was soothing with Elena assisting him and softly conversing with him. Then, she put on his race-car pajamas. Brushed his teeth. And placed him into bed.
She sat on the edge of his bed and gently brushed his hair away from his forehead. "I'm sorry I was gone for such a long time."
Darius shook his head. "You won a medal."
Her eyes moistened a little. "Yes, I did. But I missed you every single day." She bent down and kissed his forehead. "Bronze Medal is awesome, but you're my Gold Medal."
She meant it, although it was cheesy.
"When you're older, I'll show you," she said. "How to run correctly. How to train. How to compete. Would you like that?"
Darius nodded while his eyes were already closing. "A lot."
She watched him drift off to sleep and saw something in his eyes that she should have never seen in a three year old. An intensity that seemed beyond his years. She noticed it, however, didn't fully grasp it, and assumed it was because he wanted to be like mom, but somewhere inside of her, she realized that he was more.
She turned off the lights and left the door slightly ajar, then stood in the hallway for a short time looking at him. A small boy in race car PJs. Her son. Potential future runner. She felt it.
Downstairs, Elena and Tobias spoke softly. Darius could hear them through the floor, happy warm sounds. His mom was home. His family was complete.
His eyes closed and he fell asleep easily.
And in his dreams, he ran.
The alarm sounded at 5:30 AM.
Elena reached across and turned it off before it woke Tobias. Her body clock was still adjusting to the Olympics and traveling, but she had to go back to training. Bronze wasn't gold, and she was already thinking about next season.
It was nice to be home, but the competitive drive in her was restless. She had taken a week off to recover and spend time with her family, which was plenty. Time to get back to work. Her coach had arranged an easy run for today, just 8 miles at a recovery pace to see how her body felt.
She quietly made her way through the bedroom, putting on her training attire in the dark. Tobias was still sleeping and he needed it.
Elena opened the bedroom door and stopped.
Darius was standing in the hallway wearing his pajamas.
"Mama?"
"What are you doing up, baby?" She spoke softly.
"Where you going?"
"Just going to the track to run."
His eyes brightened, which startled her.
"Me too?"
She had not planned on bringing him. But seeing his expression, and truthfully, she was intrigued. Tobias had said he was obsessed with track, but she wanted to see it for herself.
"Okay. Get dressed."
She assisted him in dressing in little track pants and a T-shirt while bouncing with excitement. She packed a bag with water, snacks, and a few toys, however, she doubted he'd use the toys. She left a note for Tobias on the kitchen counter and they were out the door by 6:15 AM.
In the car, Darius was wide awake and alert. Most three year olds would be groggy at this hour, however, not him. He stared out the window with total concentration.
"We're going to the track?" he asked.
"Yes, baby."
"Like on TV?"
"Exactly like on TV."
He was silent after that, seemingly content.
The University Track & Field Complex appeared on the horizon as the sun was rising. Elena had trained here for many years and knew each lane and every mark on the 400 meter outdoor track with its nine lanes and quality Mondo surface. The infield grass was still wet with dew. Bleachers lined one side of the complex, and the equipment shed was quiet in the distance near the long jump pit and pole vault area.
The air was still cool and the track was empty when they arrived. Elena loved this time of day. Quiet. Focused.
She unstrapped Darius from his car seat and took his hand as they entered the complex and walked to the track. He stopped walking.
Just stopped and stared.
"Wow," he whispered almost silently.
Elena observed him. Most children would run around excitedly, touching things, asking endless questions. He was just observing. The track. The lanes. The starting blocks that were set up in lane 4. As if he was memorizing it.
Strange.
"You may sit right here," she pointed to the bleachers, front row. "Mama's going to run."
He nodded and climbed up to the top of the bleachers with her assistance, then sat with his hands resting on his knees and his eyes fixed on the track.
"I'll just be out there. Stay here."
"Okay, mama."
He was so obedient, almost too obedient for a three year old.
Elena walked onto the infield and began to perform her dynamic stretching. Leg swings. Lunges. High knees. She glanced at Darius and observed him watching every movement. Not fidgeting. Not messing with the grass or his shoes. Just watching.
Her coach had sent her workout via text: Easy 8 miles @ 7:30-7:45 minute per mile pace. A recovery run. Try to keep the heart rate down. She began jogging and fell into her stride.
The first lap felt great. Her body was recalling what it had done, although her legs were a little heavy from her post-Olympic recovery. However, it was familiar and comfortable. She passed the bleachers and Darius continued to observe her.
By the third lap, another runner had arrived. Noah, the college 800 meter guy. He waved at her and noticed Darius.
"That your kid?"
"Yes."
"Cute. Is he going to run?"
Elena laughed. "Possibly someday."
Noah went to the other side of the track to begin his own workout.
On the fifth lap, Elena was entering the zone. Her breathing was steady, and her pace was consistent. She passed the bleachers once again and Darius still hadn't budged. He was still observing her.
Ten minutes of a three year old sitting still.
By the eighth lap, she was halfway through and checked on him more closely. He wasn't just watching randomly. He was studying her running form. His head moved smoothly to follow her as she rounded the turn, as if studying film, as if she studied races.
There was something about that realization that unsettled her in a way she couldn't describe well. Good or bad, she didn't know, but she paid more attention now.
At the tenth lap, Darius stood up.
Elena's heart leapt with fear that he was bored or leaving, however, he carefully descended from the bleachers and walked to the edge of the track. He positioned himself at the fence separating the infield from the track and watched her run toward him. She passed him and he followed her with his eyes, then walked along the fence line, keeping parallel to where she was running on the track. Attempting to stay close.