Jenn was wearing flip-flops, surf shorts, and a tie-dyed T-shirt. Her summer-wheat hair was inbraids, giving her the look of a blonder, lesser-known Longstocking. She was pretty and petiteenough to pass for a figure skater, an image she鈥檇 tried in the past to scruff up by shaving her headdown to stubble and getting big, black vampire bat tattooed on her right forearm, onlydiscoveringlaterthatitwasadea(a) d ringer for the Bacardi rum logo. 鈥淲hatever,鈥?Jenn said with ashrug. 鈥淭ruth in advertising.鈥? But almost instantly, Jenn began to bug him. She fixated on Billy鈥檚 University of North Carolinabaseball cap and wouldn鈥檛 let up. 鈥淒ude!鈥?Jenn said. 鈥淚 need that lid!鈥?She鈥檇 gone to UNC for ayear before dropping out and moving to San Francisco to write poetry, so if there was any karmicjustice on this beach, then she should be sporting the Tar Heels gear, not some pretty-boy surferlike him who only wore it to keep the pretty-boy bangs out of his eyes鈥? Team Jerker wasn鈥檛 quite as well oiled. One of Scott鈥檚 pacers was fanning him with a sweatshirt,unaware that Scott was too exhausted to complain that the zipper was slashing his back. Scott鈥檚wife and his best friend, meanwhile, were at each other鈥檚 throats. Dusty was annoyed by the wayLeah kept trying to motivate Scott by giving him fake pacing splits, while Leah wasn鈥檛 too pleasedwith Dusty鈥檚 habit of calling her husband a fucking pussy. "Oh, of course!" with a laugh. "What can I do for you?" The Tarahumara drew strength from this tradition, I realized, but Scott drew strength from everyrunning tradition. He was an archivist and an innovator, an omnivorous student who gave as muchserious thought to the running lore of the Navajo, the Kalahari Bushmen, and the Marathon Monksof Mount Hiei as he did to aerobic levels, lactate thresholds, and the optimal recruitment of allthree types of muscle-twitch fiber (not two, as most runners believe). 一本道高清到手机在线 "Then what was it?" I asked, mystified. At times when I thought of the manner of Doyle and his men toward her, it made me boil over. As for Kennedy, it was different. I did not understand Craig in this matter. Yet I knew him better than perhaps any one else. Whatever lay back of Craig's actions, always I knew there was sympathy. Some may have thought him cold, but I knew better. Kennedy had always represented to me science with a heart. As for Doyle鈥攈e was neither. Mam谩 Tita walked from runner to runner, her eyes puddling as she pressed our hands. 鈥淭e ncuidado, cari.o鈥?she urged. Be careful, dearie.