I felt a prickle of anger. One thing I used to be pretty darn good at was pushing myself to the very limits, refusing to acknowledge can’t or won’t, or never. Refusing to allow pain, or tiredness, or feelingstiffto stop me from being bloody amazing. How dare this guy label me as weak or flaky. How dare he patronise me like this, telling me I’m doing great as I gasp and hobble my way through a 5K run.
He knew nothing about me. What I was capable of. What was at stake. This is why I should have stuck to training by myself.
I nearly turned right around and sprinted for home. Only, I knew, with a few more plodding paces up that endless, evil mountain, that the emotion steaming through my blood wasn’t anger, but embarrassment.
I used to be pretty good. Somewhere along the way, I forgot how. If there was a chance this group could help me, I would swallow my ridiculous, misplaced pride and do my best to let them.
* * *
It was seven when I straggled back into the village, ending up at the square instead of the leisure centre, as usually the club stopped for a drink or some breakfast in the Cup and Saucer café.
‘We stink the place out, mind,’ Mel told me. ‘So Chris wants us out by eight to give the fumes time to disperse.’
We pondered that lovely thought for a few seconds, before I fudged my excuse about having to get home.
The faster women were already finishing off their cool-down stretches, with the exception of Marjory, who had appeared old and frail enough to need a walking frame until she’d overtaken me about thirty seconds into the run. Marjory had stretched, cooled and now sat in the café window, chugging a chai latte.
‘Walking the last hundred metres doesn’t make it okay to skip the cool-down,’ Nathan called out, as the latecomers began drifting off. ‘Stretches, people!’ he yelled, seemingly at no one in particular.
‘Sorry, Nathan, I’m due in court,’ Dani shrugged, heading towards a sleek Audi parked opposite the square. ‘Some serious human rights are at stake.’
‘No can do, Coach, the minibeasts are awake and wanting their brekkie. I’ll do me stretches as I go, look.’ Mel started fast-walking in the opposite direction, flinging alternate arms over her head as she went.
Audrey attempted a couple of thigh stretches while Selena hissed impatiently, ‘Watch it. If you lose your balance, I’m not risking putting my back out trying to haul you up again. You’ll have to crawl home.’
I had very nearly used up every last drop of self-confidence in joining the Larkabouts that day. But, wow, how could any decent human being let that one go?
‘How can you talk to your daughter like that?’ I blurted, voice quaking. ‘How is that helpful? You should be encouraging her, supporting her with love… and… and kindness and…’
‘It’s fine,’ Audrey interrupted in a dull monotone. ‘Mum’s right. I have terrible balance.’
She trudged over to the café while I gaped in horrified disbelief and Selena smirked. ‘It’s called knowing your limits,’ she faux-whispered, pulling open the café door. ‘Try it sometime. Because you know what isn’t helpful? Butting your nose into other people’s business.’
She disappeared inside, leaving me rubbing at both arms as if that would help brush off the horrible words, before turning towards home.
‘Nah-ah, Amy. Cool-down, first.’
Nathan jogged past, forcing me to come to a stop when he planted himself in front of me.
‘If you skip it, your muscles will make you pay later.’ He smiled, eyes glinting in the café lights.
I scanned the sky behind him. The sun wasn’t up yet, but dawn was well on its way.
‘I need to head back, make sure Joey’s up. He wants an hour in the pool this morning.’
And I didn’t want to spend one second in the village square trying to force my body into unnatural contortions in front of a highly attractive personal trainer who knew what a wimp I was. I did a mental shudder at the image of me being the one to lose my balance, having to crawl home after Nathan put his back out trying to haul me up again.
Nathan shook his head, wincing. ‘Please don’t go home and collapse into a chair without stretching out properly. You can trust me on this.’
‘I know how to cool-down. And I know it’s important. I might not look like it, butyoucan trustmeon this.’ I started to back away, picking up my pace as I reached the pavement. ‘See, I’m not even finished yet. There’s no point cooling down if I’m still running, is there?’
‘I’m going to ask Joey later!’ Nathan yelled after me. ‘Five minutes minimum or next time I’ll follow you to make sure.’
That’s a big assumption, talking about next time,I huffed as I raced against the sunrise.
A gust of autumn wind hit my face. It smelled of crunchy leaves and muddy fields. Dirt and pure, wild freedom mixed together.
Who was I kidding? The run was the easy bit – hanging out with real life people for an hour, chatting with them, smiling, learning from them and not a single terrible thing happening to ruin it? Each one of the emotions powering through my bloodstream like a herd of marathon runners – jubilation, joy, worry, amazement, grief, hope, bewilderment – showed up my recent existence as the numbed-up, limping, nothing of a half-life it really was.
