I had started off slow day one and even week one, but now, I wanted to push myself, and I was running at a speed of five and trying for the life of me to keep on going.
My arms pumped faster as I picked up the pace on the treadmill. Sweat lined my brow and my upper lip, and, slid down my back. One thing I knew: running exhilarated me. I’d forgotten how much I loved this.
This had been my recent daily routine—going to Austin’s after work, where he’d motivate me and get me on the treadmill and push me to be on track to run this marathon, which he was pressing me to sign up for. But signing up meant it was actually going down.
“It’s weird that you’re just standing there, watching me.” I had to force the words out because I was out of breath.
I knew that Austin was my coach in a way, him pumping up his hands, giving me words of praise and cheering me when I passed each half-mile mark. And at certain points, when the cheering ceased, he’d simply just look at me, not saying a thing, and that made my stomach flip and flop.
“Can you do something else besides stare at me?” I said, feeling self-conscious with his eyes on me.
That seemed to break him out of his trance. “You mean, like get on the treadmill next to you and run?”
“No, stupid.” The way he was looking at me made every part of me heat, even the parts that wouldn’t heat up when I was normally running.
“You’re slowing down.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re losing energy.”
I wasn’t going to argue with him there.One more mile. I can do this. I’d already run five.
I inhaled rhythmically through my nose, exhaling slowly through my mouth.One more mile. One more mile.
I watched the mile marker tick up at an agonizingly slow pace. I couldn’t even fathom running twenty-six-point-two miles right now. I needed to ease back into running, not do thisjump all inandkill the worldtype of thing. I wanted to push myself, but I didn’t want to burn out fast.
“You can do it, Sydney. I believe in you.” The earnestness in his voice motivated me to keep on going.
I closed my eyes, lifted my chin to the ceiling, and increased the speed. I was out of energy, but I only had a little bit to go.
“Don’t stop now,” he said. “Don’t you dare think about hitting that Stop button.”
And now, I wanted to throat-punch him.
“Stop … talking.” I just increased my speed, hoping he’d shut up. I was grateful for his encouragement, but I was in tired, pissed off runner mode.
Austin stood by the treadmill to the right of me, staring and smiling and cheering. “You might get chocolate cake right after this.”
Now, that was the motivation I needed. I increased the speed one more time, gunned it, and watched the mile marker tick up. When I hit my distance, I internally rejoiced as I pressed Stop, jerking forward and almost knocking my head against the treadmill dashboard.
I held on to the sides, losing my equilibrium.
“Whoa there, Road Runner,” Austin chided. “You’re supposed to cool down. You’re gonna fall and break something that way.”
I jumped off the treadmill. “I’m done.” I placed my hands on my knees, ducking down to catch my breath. I focused on the speckles of white against the black rubber gym flooring as I gulped in air.
My heart was beating a million times a minute, and for the life of me, I could not breathe. “I don’t think I’ll be ready for a marathon.” I had run track in high school, but a marathon was a whole different level.
“You will if you want to be. That’s a long while from now.”
“Still …”Why did I even think I could do this?I shut my eyes tightly as sweat outlined my brow.
When my breathing returned to a normal pace, I stood from my crouched position.
“I’ve been out of commission too long.”Was that really it? Or was I afraid I wouldn’t be able to do it?
He handed me my water bottle, placed the rolled-up towel around my neck, and pulled me in by the ends. I was sweaty and sure as hell didn’t smell like roses, yet he got up close and personal.