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馬拉松大賽當天終於來了。
早上七點鐘，作家先生非常準時出現在起跑點。他穿著背號１的白色運動背心、運動短褲和慢跑鞋，看起來不特別精神抖擻，卻也不特別無精打采，跟平常沒兩樣。

馬拉松大賽的旗幟隨風飄揚，鎮上居民聚集在起跑線周圍，作家先生像表演特技的動物園猴子般，在人牆圈圈中央一邊神色哀傷地一邊做暖身操，彷彿待會要跑進宇宙黑洞般複雜的表情。「一、二、一、二」他提起左腳，再提起右腳，吸氣、吐氣、吸氣、吐氣…從不出門的庫庫也瞞著大人偷跑出來，躲在人群中凝望作家先生。

Finally came the Marathon day run!
Flags waved in the sky, and people gathered around the starting line, even KuKu sneaked in the crowd to watch and wait.
Wearing all sporty suits, Mr. writer arrived on time. He looked neither spirited nor listless, just as usual.
To warm up his body, he began doing some exercise. But surrounded by the whole village residents, he's more like a circus monkey performing a trick than a hero preparing for a task.

Right, left, right, left! Mr. writer lifted both legs alternately.
Inhale, exhale, Inhale, exhale…at the same time, a complicated expression showed on his face like he's about to run into the black hole in universe in a very short future.