Hermes, messenger of the gods, was
filled with rage. His face burned bright red and he clenched his fists with
fury. How dare a mere human contest my running abilities. I shall
teach Pheidippides a lesson. He needed revenge.
Pheidippides, an Olympian known for
his running abilities, was needed by King Aegeus, the military power of Athens.
Persian King Darius had already conquered Thrace in the north and his army was
moving closer and closer to the city of Athens. “Pheidippides I need you to run
as fast as you can to the city. General Miltiades was able to chase the Persian
army away at Marathon, but now they are headed to Athens. We need to warn the
people in the city. Please, run quickly and may the gods be in your favor,”
ordered King Aegeus.
“I will do it, my king. You can count
on me,” Pheidippides bowed as he responded. Feet pounding, heart pumping,
running the entire way, Pheidippides delivered the warning allowing Miltiades
and his army time to reach the city in order to defend it.
“Pheidippides, you have saved the day. You
indeed are a great runner,” boasted King Aegeus. With this compliment, Pheidippides thought to
himself, I am the best runner in the
entire world. Even the leader of Athens said so. In reality I am better than Hermes. Unluckily for Pheidippides,
Hermes heard what he had said and would not let anyone berate him. He was furious.
No one is better than me, and that is the
real truth, Hermes thought.
That night Hermes appeared to Pheidippides
in a dream. “You proclaim that you are better than I,” Hermes angry demanded.
Pheidippides trembled, “I didn’t… I
didn’t… I didn’t mean it.”
“You have challenged me and I accept
the challenge. Tomorrow at sundown we will race from the plains of Sparta to
the coast and we will see who is the swiftest runner,” then he disappeared.
The next morning Pheidippides awoke
knowing it wasn’t just a dream. Ready for the challenge and knowing he was sure
to win, Pheidippides greeted Hermes at the prearranged meeting spot. “On the
count of three,” Hermes commanded. “One, two three,” and they took off running.
Blurring the view of the spectators, only a cloud of dust could be seen as they
flew across the plain with their feet barely touching the ground. For the first
stadion, it appeared to be a close race as they were neck and neck. But then,
Hermes pulled slightly ahead of Pheidippides, glanced over his shoulder and almost
felt sorry for him. He thought, I am
impressed with this mortal, and yet, he shall be severely punished for his
outrageous and shocking arrogance. Suddenly, Hermes dashed further ahead. Barely
visible to the human eye, he was running at supersonic speed, the speed of
sound.
Lagging far behind Pheidippides was thinking; this wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had. I
shouldn’t have challenged a god. My boasting will surely cost me my life. Oh, Hermes
please don’t let me die. Hermes heard Pheidippides; he decided it would be
a shame to kill him. Instead he would allow him to live, but never forget his
crime.
Pheidippides shrinking slowly, ever
so slowly eventually was the size of a watermelon. A hard crust appeared on his
back and his gait gradually slowed. Coming to a halt, he gazed at his
limbs. He saw in their place, scaly
flippers. He tried to run, but with
great effort he only slightly edged forward. Standing motionless, he realized
Hermes turned him into a slow moving turtle.
Hermes was nowhere in sight, but was
looking down from Mt. Olympus proud of his deed and his lenience in sparing
Pheidippides’ life. From that day on, Pheidippides
was a dawdling turtle on land. But alas, Hermes was also compassionate and allowed
him to swim at great speeds and grace in the sea.