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a little.

 
    KICKERS

CHAPTER EIGHT
Working the Hill

    “Nice game,” Dad said, shaking Ben’s hand as he reached the car.
    “Best one yet,” Ben said. “What’s the hurry?”
    “We’re going to Larry’s race.”
    “Oh yeah.”
    Larry was competing in an important cross-country race that afternoon. The meet was at a park just a few miles away.
    Mom leaned over the back seat and handed Ben a small paper bag with a peanut butter sandwich, a container of yogurt, and an apple.
    “Thanks,” he said. “You don’t even realize that you’re hungry when you’re running that hard. But as soon as you stop, you’re like, ‘I’m starving!’”
    When they reached the park, Ben spotted Larry’s team in their green sweatsuits jogging in a grassy field. The shirts said LINCOLN in big white letters. There were lots of other teams, too. Ben slammed the car door shut and ran over to his brother.
    “Hey, Larry!” Ben shouted as he got closer.
    Larry gave a quick wave, but he didn’t smile and he kept jogging.
    “We won,” Ben said, running next to his brother.
    “That’s good.” Larry was staring straight ahead and looked very serious.
    The team members all stopped running and began to stretch. They bent their knees a little and reached for the ground.
    “I
almost
scored,” Ben said. “But I made some pretty good passes.”
    Larry shut his eyes and nodded. He stood straight up and reached his arms overhead. Then he jogged away again.
    What’s his problem?
Ben thought. He didn’t bother to follow Larry. He walked back across the field toward his parents.
    “Larry totally ignored me,” he said.
    “He’s concentrating,” Mom said.
    “This is a huge race for him,” Dad said. “He’s bound to be nervous.”
    Ben hadn’t thought about that. “I guess he needs to focus,” he said.
    “He certainly does,” Dad said. “You know how it is. When you’re in a soccer game, you aren’t thinking about anything but that, right? It can be even harder in a race.”

    Ben agreed. If you messed up in a race, you didn’t have a teammate to help you out. When Ben had stumbled in the soccer game, Jordan had scored anyway. He could just imagine how it would be if things went wrong in a long race like this.
    Larry would be running 3,000 meters, just a little less than two miles. And this park was hilly. They’d be following paths through thewoods, up and down short, steep hills and longer, more gradual ones. And they’d be running fast. No wonder Larry was being quiet.
    The runners were lining up at the start. Ben counted twelve teams on the line. Larry was usually the third- or fourth-fastest runner on his team, and the team was one of the best in the area.
    “He’s hoping to finish in the top ten overall,” Dad said. “His team has a good chance to win the meet.”
    Ben followed his parents as they walked toward the woods.
    “If you time it right, you can see nearly all of the race,” Dad said. “Cross-country is one of the only sports where the spectators have to move around, too.”
    The whistle blew to start the race and the pack of runners streamed across the grassy field. Several runners sprinted to the front.
    “They’ll never keep up that pace,” Dad said. “Larry’s playing it smart.”
    Larry was near the front of the pack, but he looked calm and relaxed.
    The runners circled around the grassy area and turned onto a dirt path that would lead them into the woods. After a few minutes, four runners had broken away from the others and opened a 20-meter lead. Larry’s teammate Devin was among them.
    Ben quickly counted the runners ahead of his brother. “He’s in sixteenth,” he said.
    “That’s good,” Dad replied. “The hills will make a big difference. Every athlete has to work hard, but staying in control is the key. Larry is pacing himself just fine.”
    As the runners entered the woods, Ben’s parents headed toward a different path. “They’ll pass this point in a few minutes,”