Page 56 of The Weight Of It All
“Hey.” I nodded, remembering every detail of what he did to me in my dream. “You were great by the way.”
He half laughed. “What?”
Fuck.
“Sorry, I mean youlookgreat, by the way.” I felt my cheeks redden further.
“Uh, thanks?” He was clearly a mix of confused and amused. “You too. Love the new gym clothes.”
“Oh, thanks.” I cleared my throat and decided to start the whole conversation over. “So, what torture routine are we doing today?”
“Yes, right,” Reed said, looking around the gym. He clapped his hands together. “Today we’re doing more running and some core strength.”
“Excellent.”
He started walking over to the treadmills. “That didn’t even sound too sarcastic!”
“I know. I believe the conversion has begun.”
He put his hand on the treadmill but stopped and stared at me. “The conversion?”
“Yes, the brainwashing conversion to the dark side. You know, of the gym people? Those who actuallylikeexercise.”
Reed’s smile was slow spreading. “Ah, that conversion.”
I nodded knowingly. “Scary, huh? First there was cardio, then dieting. Who knows where it will end.”
He chuckled. “I’m really glad to hear that, Henry. You’ve done really well to get this far.”
“Thanks to you.”
He held my gaze for a while, then looked away with a bit of a laugh. He let out a breath and turned his focus back to his job. “Okay, so to get the blood pumping, we’ll do a slow jog but with no stopping. This is about pace and consistency. You’ll want to slow to a walk, but I want you to push through it and keep jogging, okay?”
I cringed. “I take back everything I said about liking this.”
He smiled victoriously. “No you don’t.”
He was right, though. I wanted to stop. I wanted to slow it down and walk a while to give my lungs some reprieve. I worried my feet would trip on the conveyor belt.
“You got this, Henry,” Reed said beside me. He wasn’t jogging with me this time but standing next to the treadmill, watching my every move. “Just pick a spot on the far wall and stare at it, clear your mind, and let your body do its job.”
And strangely enough, that helped. It did clear my mind, and without consciously thinking about it, my legs kept moving and my lungs kept pumping. I could feel the sweat roll down my back, and it was good to know I could push through my own limits. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but here I was, jogging my heart out. Proof that I’d made a decision to get control of my life back, and it was working.
Reed reached over and pressed some buttons and the machine started to slow down so eventually I was walking. And puffing and panting, but I was also smiling. “I did it.”
“You did. You just ran three kilometres, nonstop.” He checked the treadmill screen. “In twenty five minutes, eleven seconds.”
I tooka few deep breaths. “Is that good?”
“Very good. For you, that’s excellent.”
“For me?” I stepped off the treadmill on unsteady legs and wiped my towel over my face. “How fast can you do it in?”
“Well, that’s not important.”
“Yes it is.”
“It’s not a race, Henry. The only person’s time you need to beat is your own.”
