Page 77 of Get Me to the Starting Line
“HowsmugwasJulien?”Paige asks when we meet up in the park.
I roll my eyes. “Smug enough I may have accidentally moved the book he’s reading to a place he can’t reach right now.”
Paige laughs and then kneels down to say hello to a bundled-up Levi. When she stands, she looks at me expectantly.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing, I’m just glad you called.” She smiles her perfect Paige smile and I’m glad I called her too. “Do you want to set the pace?”
Nerves suddenly make my voice a little shaky. “Sure.” I’ve never run with anyone except Julien, and he has the patience of a tree. “I’m slow, though, and sometimes I have to stop to walk,” I warn her.
“That’s fine, I don’t mind,” she says. She sounds sincere so I’m going to choose to believe her.
I set a pace that feels familiar, though I don’t have Julien here to keep track of our time and distance. Paige has her watch on, and I know she started the running setting, but I feel bad asking her to check for me. I should get my own, but there’s probably a free app I can use.
We’re silent for a while, and I definitely set the pace too fast—this is harder than I remember. Was it the three weeks off? Not even the beautiful city can distract me.
Is she having fun? Is she bored?
“Did you book that photographer you wanted?” I ask, breaking the silence, trying not to show her how out of breath I am already. I overshot the pace, not wanting to feel too slow for her.
Paige has been so busy with wedding planning, trying to lock down her favourite vendors. They’ve decided to get married in their backyard, so they’ll need to hire vendors for everything from catering to decor, and photography is the biggest one. I’ve been helping her sift through all their information.
“Yes, I did! She’s amazing, funny, and super chill. We paid the retainer yesterday,” Paige says excitedly.
“That’s great!” It comes out all breathy because I am dying.
It’s not that I let Julien push Levi every day, but ever since he insisted I work on my form, he’s been taking the stroller more andmore. I feel Paige’s stare burrowing into my face, and she slows down.
Thank god.
“Are you ... do you want help?” she asks tentatively.
“No, I’m fine,” I automatically respond.
But it’s not true. I do want help—I could really use a break. Calling Paige was hard enough, but this? She wouldn’t have offered if she didn’t mean it. I know my sister. Why can’t I get the words out?
“Leah, let me help.” She says it so softly, like I might startle if she’s too loud.
“Okay,” I say just as quietly.
We switch places and Paige takes over pushing the stroller. I adjust to my proper running form, feeling both lighter and guiltier. Knowing she’ll chew me out if I try to apologize or take Levi back, I keep up my easy pace as we continue our run. Okay, I can do this. I shouldn’t have taken three weeks off.
Julien’s smug face filters into my mind. I hate that he was right. And I kind of hate that I don’t hate running as much as I thought I would. It’s notthatbad. But my favourite thing about running? The doughnuts I’m going to pick up on the way back to my apartment. Chips and dip too. The craving reminds me of my hand position, and I gently press my thumb to my fingers, releasing my fist.
My stomach is happy thinking of all the food I’m going to eat. Especially the pizza I’m going to order tonight for dinner. Running makes me so hungry. Oh my god, I want bread right now. Allthe bread.
And maybe a hot dog.
I don’t even like hot dogs, but my mouth waters anyway. Paige’s heavy breathing distracts me from my food thoughts.
“Holy shit, Leah, what are you feeding this kid?”
“Shit,” Levi’s little voice parrots from the stroller.
“He does eat a lot. He gets it from his mommy,” I say proudly.
“This is so much harder than I thought it would be. You’ve been running with the stroller for months?”
