Number Theory
Andrew R. Crow
Dorsal Winner

Thirty-seven seconds.

Exactly.

That's how long it takes me to get from the 3rd floor bathroom down to my bedroom and back up again.

I know that because of three things: I've done it enough times, I love anything to do with numbers, and I love running (even though I'm not supposed to).

See, I'm a math geek and a statistics addict. I would be a track jock, if not for my heart defect: a non-treatable (one of the few, my luck) bicuspid aortic valve.

So I'm not allowed to run, or even walk quickly.

But I do.

One time I was pissed off at Stephanie Umbridge from school for pretending to like me (some elaborate joke I never really understood) and I ran more than I should have. Actually, running 10 feet is more than I should. But I did.

I ran full-tilt (for me) for 6 minutes. Approximately.

I say approximately because I (luckily) passed out before my chest exploded.

That was my last marathon.

Running (on the sly, of course) gives me a sense of freedom and time to think.

About numbers.

And that's why I'm doing this.

Because of numbers.

Well, a book about numbers: Bettenhorst's Probability Theory, 3rd ed.

It was in my room. And I was bored.

Which was why I ran from the bathroom.

Where my 1 year old sister was.

Who was in the bath. And refused to get out.

Who was in my care because my parents were next door at the Carlson's.

And I'm old enough (I'm 15).

("Just give her a quick bath, her bottle, and put her to bed. Then you've the rest of the evening to watch TV and play your video games.").

I tried getting her out, and she wouldn't. She'd start crying every time.

And as I said, I was bored.

No excuse. Just an explanation.

She had her sponge toys.

And the rubber duck I'd bought her a few weeks ago.

And I'd sat her up (she was sitting up on her own by now) against the back of the baby tub.

Be right back, Abby.

That's what I said.

Just 37 seconds. Of course it took a bit longer since I forgot where I'd left my book.

Not much longer. A minute. Maybe closer to 2.

I wasn't really paying attention.

This time.

You know what I found when I got back. No-one needs a description.

I've been running now for 8 minutes and 11 seconds.

And I'm really feeling it.

I figure another 2 and a half minutes until my chest really does explode.

I should know.

I'm really good with numbers.

First published: August, 2007
comments to the writer: knob'swriter@iceflow.com