Marathon

 David was tired.

No, that was an understatement. Calling David tired was like calling Mount Everest merely large. If you had to ask David himself about his condition at the moment, he would have a great many words to use. Exhausted, fatigued, worn out, but none of them encapsulated the exact feeling.

These were the thoughts running through his mind as he stumbled along, weaving through a mass of sweaty and equally tired people. Maybe it wasn't the best time to slip back into the habit of an English teacher, and try to scour through the thesaurus of words in his head for the most fitting adjective, but it was what he was used to.

Conveniently, it also helped to distract him from the burning ache in every limb of his body, from the painful, dry feeling in his throat, and from the dizziness caused by the sweltering heat of the sun. His legs were beginning to feel like jelly beneath him, and he was very surprised he was still moving. He thought he would have collapsed a few minutes ago, but he was still going.

A shove from behind almost caused him to stumble mid-step and trip, but he stayed standing, arms pinwheeling in terror. If he did fall, scrapes on his knees would be the worst of his problems. The huge crowd of people trampling him beneath their feet was a more pressing issue.

Thinking of his terrible situation only made him feel like cursing his past self, his self of about two weeks ago. The David from two weeks ago had been sitting in his classroom, teaching a group of bored teenagers about ancient Greek history, which obviously none of them had cared about. He still remembers the words that got him into this predicament, coming from a gum-chewing girl, whose name kept slipping from his mind. 

"I don't think it's possible for someone normal to run an entire marathon like that Greek guy, especially without, like, training for it or something. This all feels kind of made-up." The girl had muttered, bored lidded eyes boring into the back of my skull. When David looked back at her with a raised eyebrow, she hastily tacked on a "Sir".

"Of course its possible. You just need to have determination. As long as you are committed to it and do it slowly but surely, anything is possible." replied the teacher, ready to give an motivational lesson at all times. "In fact, that is the moral of this story, to be hard-working and determined."

"Well," a boy sitting in the front row, Mark, began slowly, already causing a sinking feeling in David's gut, "If you're so sure about that sir, why don't you try it? If you can complete the City Marathon next week, I'll believe you. But if you can't, you've got to admit that this story is fake." The sly smile on the boy's face stretched like a Cheshire cat's.

The whole class had woken up from their daze of boredom, and begged the teacher to do it. One thing led to another, and here David was, at a marathon, about ready to give up. Of course, if he did that, he would never hear the end of it from his students. He can already imagine their mocking words.

And, their already terrible behavior in class will become worse, due to loss of respect. The terrible thought raised goosebumps, and David shivered despite the heat.

As one step became, two, which became three, the determined teacher slowly made his way forward, even with his body protesting. Eventually though, something had to give. David wasn't in the best of shape, and he hadn't had any water in hours. He was starving, and couldn't go any further.

He tripped and fell, laying spread-eagle on the dusty ground. Lifting his head to the side, he spat out the dirt which got in his mouth, and looked around himself with hazy vision. Thankfully, nobody had stepped on him.

David imagined just laying there instead of finishing the race, and what an amazing thought it was. He wouldn't have to go through any more torturous running. It was like a dream come true.

But suddenly, he was pulled up from his impromptu rest on the ground by hands under his arms, and pulled to the side of the road, where there was a thinner crowd. As he looked up, he could see the slightly blurry faces of his would-be saviors.

"You promised us you would finish this marathon. Not going to go back on your word, are you, sir?" said the cheekily-smiling Mark, as he patted his exhausted teacher on the back.

"Yeah, I mean, we came all the way here, in this terrible sun, to see you actually do this." muttered the gum-chewer, Beth, his mind finally supplied. "I'll be really disappointed if you give up here." 

David remained speechless, the words which usually came so easily to him seemed to be clogged up somewhere between his brain and his mouth. Ignoring their teacher's lack of words, the two students handed him a bottle of water to make sure he didn't die of dehydration. 

As he took hesitant sips of the sweet nectar, he couldn't help but feel grateful for his students. Although they may be rude, they really were good kids. Slowly standing up, he turned back to look at his grinning students.

"Let's finish this marathon!"