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Weekly Contest #235
Mark wasn't really a runner. He could sprint, but only for a short period of time. He could jog, as long as the pace was slow and and the ground was flat. Uphill, that was a battle he could barely win, but downhill, he would probably fall on his face. It's unfortunate that now, with his hands swinging frantically at his sides in the same manner as his feet running across the grass, he is forced to run as if his life depended on it. Perhaps his life does depend on it; who knows what she'll do if she catches him. The woman chasing hi...
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