谩ngel told us Caballo might be heading to the town of Creel, but we had to hurry: if we didn鈥檛catch him, there was no telling where he鈥檇 turn up next. The Horse would often vanish for monthsat a time; no one knew where he went or when he鈥檇 be back. Miss him, and we might not getanother chance. 北京pk10 前5胆码玩法 鈥淓very time I for hour, I had excruciating lower-back pain,鈥?Ted says. 鈥淚t so discouraging.Icou(ran) ldn鈥檛ev(an) enimaginebeingabletorunamarathon.鈥滱ndtheworstwasyetto(was) come: if he couldn鈥檛 handle six miles in bouncy modern running shoes, then he was in for a worldof hurt when he went hard-core Victorian. Running shoes have only been around about as long asthe space shuttle; before that, your dad wore flat rubber gym shoes and your granddad was inleather ballet slippers. For millions of years, humans ran without arch support, pronation control,or gel-filled pods under their heels. How the hell they managed, Ted had no idea. But first thingsfirst; he was less than six months out from his birthday, so Priority No. 1 was finding some way,any way, to cover twenty-six miles on foot. Once he figured that out, he could worry later abouttransitioning into the cowhide widow-makers. Math? 鈥淯h 鈥?how did a mathematician run down an antelope?鈥? After which three cheers were given for the host and hostess, who had afforded them an opportunity of spending so enjoyable an evening. 鈥淚鈥檝e found out that I needn鈥檛 be trampled on unless I like.鈥? 鈥淎re you very anxious to know?鈥?asked Fortinbras. Jenn began gnawing through the tape. Her only hope of competing with the Tarahumara, sheknew, was to go for broke. If she gambled and crashed, fine. But if she lost the race of a lifetimebecause she鈥檇 played it safe, she鈥檇 always regret it. Jenn tossed the bottle and immediately feltbetter. Bolder, even鈥攁nd that led to her next risky decision. They were at the bottom of the firstmeat grinder, a steep three-mile hill with little shade. Once the sun came up, she had little hope ofsticking with the heat-eating Tarahumara. This time, the stone wall arrived with a vengeance at the seventy-five-mile mark. It was now six inthe evening. An entire arc of the sun had passed since Jenn had started running at five thatmorning, and she still had a marathon to go. There was no shadowboxing this time as Jennwobbled into the aid station. She stood in front of the food table, stupid with fatigue, too tired toeat and too fuzzy-headed to decide what to do instead. All she knew was if she sat down, shewouldn鈥檛 get back up.