Excerpt from BORN LEGEND by Samuel N. Cheuvront
Jess bounced once, then crouched to tighten her laces. No one cheered her name.
Tension thickened the air as runners sized each other up with nervous side eyes. Some of them seemed to pause too long when looking at Jess. She tried to stem her fears but imagined she could read their thoughts. Who’s the new girl? She doesn’t look like a miler. Is she even in the right race? The sixty-two inked on her wrist whispered doubt. Quick breaths and cotton mouth accompanied her rising pulse.
Imposter syndrome. Stop it, she scolded herself. You belong here. Believe.
Heads bowed and knees bent, the gun fired! Piper darted for the lead, and Brandy quickly nestled behind. Jess reacted well from lane eight to quickly position herself two steps removed in third. Charlene settled in fourth with Shannon on her heels. Coach Moore instructed Jess to treat each lap as its own race, refrain from thinking too far ahead, and take constant inventory of her form. He instructed her to hold tight to pace until the bell lap, then gradually accelerate into a final two-hundred-meter sprint for the finish, just as she had practiced with Billy.
The first lap in sixty-three seconds felt worryingly fast. Somewhere inside a tic of panic began. Hollowed bowels and burning lungs betrayed the sluggish onset of oxygen kinetics. Perhaps her warm-up had been a little too timid? She tried ineptly holding onto positive ruminations of any kind, but none held. Only the breathing of her teammates quelled her rising fear, reminding her that they were racing as a team with Piper and Brandy forging an aerodynamic shield to create a precious energy savings she would need to break the American record. Her mind might be playing a losing game, but she was on a winning team.
Coming into the final stretch before the halfway mark, the pack held steady, but Jess felt like her limbs were pinwheeling frantically out of control, the pace too fast. Her lungs begged for a mercy she knew wouldn’t come. No rest interval. No relief. Just more track.
Piper drifted out to lane two, her breathing jagged, the lead exchanged without words. She had dragged them through a clinical 2:08 first half, and now she was gone.
At one thousand meters, Brandy surged, running defiantly beyond herself. Jess locked onto her shoulder, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed to the ponytail bobbing in front of her.
Jess’s focus was suddenly and forcibly broken by a parade of pain marching up and down her vertical plane, slowly spreading to assail her from every corner of herself. At the eleven-hundred-meter mark in a full sweat under the warm, cloudless Drake Stadium sky, Jess shadowed Brandy who was slowly losing hold of an effort exceeding her ability.
They came off the curve into the homestretch. The bell waited.
Brandy veered outward to the second lane as she lost the pace. Punching at invisible foes, knees ignoring the lift command, her mask of misery revealed to the world how far she had raced beyond herself. She was unraveling one meter at a time.
Jess moved past but didn’t look back.
Behind her, Brandy would finish somewhere north of five minutes, but she’d done her job.
Jess hit the bell lap with a determined scowl in 3:12, Charlene behind in 3:15. A perfect sixty-four-second lap. Charlene burst forward briefly, trying to tuck in behind Jess and take advantage of drafting, but after momentary trespass into American record pace, she quickly dropped gears. A few seconds behind Charlene, Shannon ran strong, looking poised and perhaps expecting she could reel Charlene in late, but any hopes of catching Jess looked dim.
The quiet crowd at the Blue Oval came to life after three laps when the legendary voice of the Drake Relays, track guy Mike Jay, announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have the makings of an American record on our hands in the women’s invitational mile!”
She was born to run.
Just not without a ball at her feet.
Jessica Legend had one future: soccer stardom.
Until a brutal injury shattered it.
With her cleats packed away and her competitive fire buried, Jess chooses the safe path. Veterinary school, her father's legacy, a life far from stadium lights.
Then a charity fun run changes everything.
What starts as a harmless race turns electric when Jess finds herself stride-for-stride with America's best miler. Coaches take notice. Whispers begin.
And suddenly, from the ashes of surrender, a new flame burns bright. Strange in shape, familiar in warmth, blazing with challenge.
Three races.
Three months.
One audacious goal. Become the first woman to break the four-minute mile barrier!
No woman has ever crossed it. Many believe no woman ever will.
From the roar of the blue oval at Drake Stadium to the sacred quiet of Oxford's track, every step carries Jess closer to Oslo. Under the endless Nordic twilight, she will confront the limits of her body, her past, and the world's expectations.
Because breaking a record is one thing.
Breaking belief is another.
Author Bio
Samuel N. Cheuvront, Ph.D., R.D., is internationally recognized for his contributions to sports science research, his lifelong enthusiasm for running, and his enduring fascination with the limits of human performance. His research has helped protect and improve the health and performance of soldiers as well as recreational and elite athletes alike. Writing has long been central to his career, but Born Legend marks his first foray into fiction. Many of his interests and personal passions are woven throughout its pages. He is a proud father of two, a U.S. Army veteran, and makes his home in Massachusetts with his wife, Melinda.
