Gonga grunted with the effort of lifting his foot for the next running step. Sweat poured down his face inside the rubber mask, stinging his eyes and making him squint all the more. The sun soaked into the black fur on his head. This was misery. Sheer torture.
He should have asked himself whether gorillas were designed to run 5Ks before agreeing to this hair-brained idea. But the girl in the pink shirt with the signup sheet had been so cute and persuasive. He hadn’t been able to tell her no. It would have crushed her. And it was so good to see such liveliness!
Now he was in the middle of a surging crowd of bodies, creeping along a strip of asphalt, wondering if he would ever make it to the end.
Stankowskie field, and the finish line shimmered in the distance.
“Come on Gonga, you can do it,” Dereck popped up at his shoulder, grinning broadly.
Dereck had stumbled across Gonga playing his accordion last week and after a lively conversation about accordion styles and mannerisms, they had become instant friends. Now Dereck seemed to pop up all over campus.
“Need---water,” Gonga croaked.
“Oh, be right back,” Dereck disappeared, dodging through the pack of runners and taking off down the track. In a minute, he was back jogging beside Gonga. This time he had a plastic cup of water in his hand.
Gonga blinked. Had he just imagined that? He accepted the water and poured most of it on his head and down his shirt. A few drops made it into his mouth.
“So fast!” he grunted.
“I ran a marathon last week,” Dereck said. “This is just a little relaxer, I’m not racing.”
Gonga rolled his eyes and stumbled on towards his goal. The Stankowskie field track felt good under his feet. It felt even better on his hands as he collapsed on the other side of the finish line. No, he decided. Gorillas were not designed to run 5Ks.
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