Page 67 of Ellie Hayes and the Himbos
A whimper crawls up my still tight throat, and I force it down. I have to get out of here. The hysteria is bubbling beneath the surface, and I’m not about to fall apart in front of everyone in the class. Especially not—
Ian’s head swivels in my direction.
I turn away. I keep hold of my bar, hoping it looks like I’m trying to keep it from rolling toward Russ, who’s grunting through his own lift, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Ian heading toward me. He’s not making a scene, but if he gets to me in this state,Isure as shit will. I have to get off the floor.
I rise unsteadily and keep my head down as I beeline for the supply room. I left it unlocked when I started the laundry, and it’s a safer call than waiting it out in the locker room, which will be full of members when class wraps up. I step in, close the door, and lean against it, not bothering to turn on the light.
The right side of my face still tingles, like I’ve put some weird chemical peel on it, and my heart rate is sky high. But I don’t cry. Which surprises me. I’d have figured that when this caught up with me, I’d finally have that emotional collapse I fought against the last few weeks.
Instead, my body shakes, rocking with full-body convulsions I make no effort to combat. I try to make a list, but the only thing I come up with is to call my neurologist. Every other to-do spins out from there.
In the gym, more weights hit the floor as athletes reach their limits. Someone rings the PR bell. Had I PR’d? Does it matter?
A broken sob pulls free from my throat.It isn’t fair!I’ve only just found this new, powerful thing my body is capable of. I hadn’t known I had it in me, and there’s so much more I want to do. It’s taking me four pulls to get to the top of the rope; I want to be able to do it in three.
My eyes sting, but still, no tears. I just shake.
So much forwhile I can.
25
I’M SITTING ON THE FLOOR,my back against the door, when there’s a knock. “Ellie?”
It’s Ian.
The dizziness has subsided, and the shaking has reduced to the occasional shudder, but it still takes enormous effort to force out a faux-casual “Oh, hey.”
“What happened?” he asks though the door.
I sigh. I have no idea what I’m going to say to him, but what else is new? I get to my feet, taking some comfort in the fact that the movement is only accompanied by run-of-the-mill head rush, and pull open the door. I have to step back to keep from bumping straight into Ian. His gray eyes stare down at me intently, a concerned tug between his brows. I have to take another step back. It’s overwhelming, being looked at like that.
I shake my head, still muddled by his expression. “I’m fine.”
“Finedoesn’t send someone to the storage room near tears,” he says, voice hard.
I scowl. “You’re inconveniently perceptive at times, did you know that?”
“Being able to accurately read someone’s body language is a critical part of coaching.”
That is a very Ian answer. A verycompetentIan answer. So, while I’m still wading through my lingering panic, I can’t ignore that I’m feeling atouchmore appreciation for his knowledgeability than is appropriate, given the scenario. But it carries me above the fear, so I lean into my competence boner like a kickstand.
Which is areallygross visual.
I grit my teeth. I could fess up.Shouldfess up. Tell him about my eye and the possible MS and what this episode probably means for me, but I’m not ready to let go of the version of me I get to be here. I don’t think I’ll ever be. But I don’t want to lie, either, so I go with the simplest version of the truth. “I got dizzy.”
“Dizzy,” he says, flatly.
“I thought I was going to black out. I haven’t experienced anything like that before, and I didn’t want to keel over in front of everyone, so I bailed. It scared me,” I say, garnishing with specificity.
Ian nods slowly, seeming to take this in. “That was a high weight for you, right? You were close to hitting your PR?”
“Yeah.” I shrug; might as well be truthful where I can. “Or maybe I’d already hit it? I wasn’t paying attention to how much was on there.”
“First,neverdo that. Youhaveto stay aware of how much is on the bar every lift, or you’re gonna get hurt. As for the dizziness…” He sighs, like my faux pas with the weight has made me unworthyof whatever he plans to say. “It’s not uncommon. Especially when you’ve only been lifting for a short while.”
“What?” I gawk at him, my fear suspended by a thread. “The dizziness? Thathappens?”
“If you don’t breathe properly before attempting a lift like that, it can.”
