Running by Jean Echenoz

Running by Jean Echenoz

Author:Jean Echenoz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The New Press
Published: 2010-08-26T00:00:00+00:00


12

THE HELSINKI GAMES begin on Tuesday but Emil is not in great shape. At thirty, he is tired, perhaps worn out by having to keep leaving the scene only to storm back in full force. His chest is sunken, his cheeks gaunt, his eyes deep-set in their orbits; his wife has never seen him so thin. It’s Sunday and things aren’t looking good; streaming sweat but never winded, he returns from his daily twenty kilometers interspersed with long sprints, then packs his bags. And the next day he flies off to Finland with Dana (who accompanies him both as an athlete and an athlete’s wife), surrounded by a handful of burly officials, mute giants in red jackets and glowering looks who never leave him, especially abroad.

Helsinki: crisp weather, evenly overcast sky, zigzags of wind, scattered showers. The humidity comes from all around, from the sky but also from the rivers and countless lakes, from the sea that insinuates itself through a thousand meandering ways into the capital. But the air is invigorating and, at this latitude, the short nights coincide with the time spent sleeping: perfect repose. Instead of limiting himself to two long-distance events, Emil surprises everyone by deciding in the end to enter three: 5000 meters, 10,000 meters, marathon.

This decision does not please everyone and especially not the professionals, even those from fraternal countries. The Soviet Olympic Committee expresses its skepticism, which amounts to a criticism and therefore a disapproval, through the voice of its secretary general. No one, he announces, can deliver good performances in three such difficult races at such close intervals, not even the peerless Paavo Nurmi. An announcement that leaves Emil indifferent but gives him an idea: always eager to see the local sights, he’ll go visit Paavo Nurmi.

Before Emil, a quarter of a century earlier, Paavo Nurmi was the greatest runner of all time. Nicknamed the Flying Finn, he’s the one who invented training by stopwatch, a stopwatch he kept by him constantly—even running, eating, and sleeping. He became a rich man, having opened a haberdashery in Helsinki considered a place of pilgrimage by athletes from all over the world, who hasten there to enjoy the honor of shaking his hand. He, without a word, merely looks them straight in the eye while selling them exorbitantly priced Finnish shirts or extravagantly expensive silk ties they don’t need at all. Having bought his shirt like everybody else, Emil, cleaned out, wears it for a few hours—it’s nice-looking but it’s a bit too small, it’s a little bit rough to the touch, it’s just a bit itchy—then changes into his red jersey, number 903 for the 10,000 meters, and they’re off.

A quarter of the way through, he takes charge of the race and stays there. Halfway through he accelerates sharply before beginning to break up his pace with his usual sudden variations: abrupt takeoff in the far turn and straightaway, slow-down in front of the stands as if to allow the audience time to admire him, renewed takeoff at top speed.



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