Chapter 1 

            Jeff stood looking over the entry form for the upcoming 5K race.  He had come into Brown's Sporting Goods store just to look around, but the pamphlet advertising the road race had caught his attention.  I wonder what it would be like to run a 5K run, he thought.  Jeff knew he was one of the fastest runners in the sixth grade.  At least that's what his P.E. teacher told him. He didn't really know what that meant, was he one of the fastest in his class, one of the fastest in the sixth grade, or one of the fastest in the school, he really wasn't sure.   A 5K?   Jeff thought, I wonder what a 5K is?   He remembered that they had studied kilometers in math class.   He remembered it was something like a mile.  Would that mean a 5K was a five-mile run?  He didn't know if he could run five miles or not.  He knew he could run one mile.  Usually, when the PE teacher had the class run two laps, which was a half of a mile, Jeff would run four laps just for fun.  I could double that fairly easy, Jeff thought so two miles shouldn't be much of a problem.  But five? Jeff thought, I don’t know if I can run five miles!  Jeff decided to fold it up and tuck it away in his shirt pocket.  He'd check out how far a 5K run would be when he got home.  Maybe it won't be a whole five miles, he thought.

            When Jeff walked through the front door, he could smell delicious aromas coming from the kitchen where he knew his mother was getting supper ready.  He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk.

            "Hi Jeff, where have you been?"  His mother asked.

            "Oh I just stopped by Brown’s Sporting Goods store on the away home from John's," he said.

            "Over there looking at the football equipment already?"

            "Not exactly," Jeff replied.  "Just sort of hanging out."

            "Well it won't be long before you're thinking about football.  This is the big summer, the one before junior high, you know?"  Jeff's mom reminded him.

            "I know," Jeff said.

            "Boy, I remember your brothers at that age," Mom continued as she set the table,  "They almost drove us nuts wanting this and that for football.  Neither one could wait for the summer to end so they could play.  And they sure are excited about you going into the 7th grade this year, maybe as excited as you are." 

            "Yeah, maybe even more," Jeff said.

            "So what were you doing at Brown’s Sporting Goods?"  Mom asked.

            "Oh, looking over an entry form for an upcoming road race."  Jeff answered.

            "An entry form?"  Mom questioned.

            "Well, I really just went in to hang out, but there's some race coming up here in town.  It's going to be held during Bronco Week."

            "I see," Mom said not really sure what Jeff was talking about.

            "Mom, do you know how far five kilometers is?"  Jeff asked.

            "Don't ask me about kilometers," Mom teased him.  "Back in the good old days when I was in school, we studied miles, feet, and inches.  We didn't get into metrics.  But I think a kilometer is something like a mile,” Mom said.

            "Well that's what I thought," Jeff said.  "I guess that means that a five kilometer race would be about five miles huh?"

            "Well I think so, but I'm not really sure.  Maybe you should ask one of your brothers.  I bet they would know," Mom suggested.  "They're out in the backyard throwing the football around, I think."

            "Okay.  I'll go out and check with them."   Jeff walked out into the backyard.  There they were throwing the football around as usual.   Jeff watched his brothers with envy.  In Jeff's eyes they were the real "Super Jocks".   Jeff had always been a little jealous of them, because sports had always come easy for them, not like Jeff.  He had to work hard just to be average, but not his brothers.  They were captains of almost everything.  Peter, his oldest brother, would be a senior this year.  He was the captain of the football team and captain of the track team. Everyone said he had a very good chance of receiving a full ride football scholarship at a division one college.  As the quarterback of the team he led his team to 8 wins and 2 losses last season, and they were predicted to go undefeated his senior year.  His other brother, Steve, was going to be a freshman.  Last year he had also been the quarterback of the football team at the junior high.  He had led them to an undefeated season.  He was sure to be just as good as Peter when he got older.   Jeff thought.   He has already made a name for himself at the junior high.  It isn't going to be easy to follow two such "Super Jocks".   But then again, maybe it runs in the blood, he hoped.

            Little League . . . Little League had been kind of a disaster, to say the least.  His brothers, of coarse, had been very good, but Little League wasn't for Jeff.  In fact he struck out more times than he hit the ball, and he could still remember the shame and embarrassment that he felt knowing his dad and brothers were in the stands watching him.  Every time he went up to bat, he prayed the pitcher would hit him with the ball so he could get on base.  He was the only kid in the entire league that had a big grin on his face when he got hit with the ball.  In the field, he was always stuck out in right field, and he couldn't stand playing that position.  After all, everyone knew it was where they stuck the losers that couldn't play, but at least he didn't get much action out there so he had fewer chances to make a fool of himself.  But, when a pop fly would come his way, Jeff would be right underneath it ready to make the big catch, and every single time it would hit the ground about a foot to one side or the other of where he was standing.  He knew he was an embarrassment to his brothers.  They never talked about it, and since Peter chose track over baseball in high school, nobody said anything when Jeff decided not to play Little League any longer.  Jeff knew his brothers couldn't understand the pressure he felt to be as good as they were at sports, and so he never talked about it, but he felt that pressure all the time.

            "Hey Jeff, heads up," Peter yelled as Jeff walked out the back door.  About that time a pass hit Jeff in the chest.  He barely held onto it without dropping the ball. 

"Nice catch!"  Peter yelled.

            "Hey give a guy some warning will ya!"  Jeff said.

            "Get use to it little man," Peter said.  "Your going to be getting a lot harder passes then that when football starts up in August."

            "Yeah, but at least I'll know they're coming."  Jeff quipped.

            "Oh, you'll know they are coming all right, but you won't know what happens after you get it.  You'll get hit from the blind side, or right at the knees, but you'll get use to it."  Peter countered.

            "Where have you been?"  Steve questioned as he tossed the football to Peter.

            "Oh I was at John's, and then on the way home I stopped by Brown's Sporting Goods store."

            "Checking out that football equipment already, huh?"  Steve asked his younger brother.

"Oh, just kind of looking around," Jeff answered.

            "Yeah, I remember the summer I was going into junior high.  I was pretty excited about it too,” Steve said.  "Man, all that equipment.  Of course most of that stuff you don't have to buy; they'll give most of it to you at school.  But it's kind of neat to look at it and dream about it."

            "Yeah, I guess so," Jeff answered.  "Hey Steve, how long is a kilometer?"

            "A kilometer?  I don't know, about a mile I guess or just a little shorter," Steve said as he jumped for the ball that Peter threw a little too high.

            "How much shorter?"  Jeff persisted.

            "I don't know.  Peter, how much shorter?"  Steve asked his older brother as he tossed the football to him again.

            "I don't know.  Why?"  Peter asked.

            "Oh, I was just wondering.  I saw this entry form for a 5K race and was just curious how long it would be, and if it was like a five mile race.

            "No."  Peter said.  "The guys on the track team, that run distance, run a 5K in cross country.  It's just a little longer then three miles, I think."

            "Three miles huh?  I could probably run that if I trained a little."  Jeff said.

            "Yeah, you run a mile pretty easy," Steve said.  "I've seen you.  So you could probably run three miles.  So what?"

            "There having that 5K run at Bronco Days and I thought I might run it," Jeff said.

"Now that's crazy!"  Peter exclaimed.  "That distance running ain't nothing but pure torture.  Why don't you run some sprints?  That will help you more for football anyway?”

            "Oh, I just thought that maybe it would be fun.  A mile is not that hard," Jeff said.  "I do it at school sometimes just for fun."

            "Well," Steve considered,  "It would help get you in shape for football all right, if you trained for it.  Bronco Days are towards the end of July, so you would be in pretty good shape when football started in the middle of August.  If he wants to train for it, it wouldn't be bad for him, Peter."

            "No, I guess not," Peter agreed.  "I mean if you want to put yourself through that kind of torture.  But hey, if it's your thing, go ahead.  But it's sure not mine!"

            "Well," Jeff said,  "I think I'll run it.  Three miles won't be too bad.  I think I'll start training tonight after supper."