My eyes drift over the company of bored faces gathered around the large conference table. The room itself is surrounded by frosted windows. The bright lights make it impossible for someone to fall asleep, regardless of how much they may want to. A couple of the senior members feel confident enough to be on their phones during the meeting, but the rest of us follow along with disinterested looks.
I wonder how Josh’s first day of school is going. I left before him this morning but slid an envelope under his door on my way out. Inside was a note that read “In case of emergency” and a name tag on which I’d written “My name is Josh. Please be nice to me!” I’m certain he’ll have a great first day and that everyone will love him. How could they not?
“And finally, our Health and Wellness committee has decided on our fitness group challenge.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “The Martha’s Vineyard Marathon next May!” There are murmurs and a few claps, but I stay silent. What about the marathon? Are we going to volunteer to hand out water? “We’ll be having a Wellness Retreat that will lead into the marathon. There will be planned activities and guest speakers. For the main event, we will sponsor five employees to run the marathon. Would anyone like to volunteer?”
“I’ll run,” says Russell, an account executive in his late forties. I don’t know him well, but he certainly has that classic lean runner’s build.
“I think I can fit another marathon into my schedule next year,” says Angela. “Count me in.” She ran three marathons last year, even traveling to Hawaii to compete. I saw a picture of her crossing the finish line on Instagram, looking as if she had just gone for a light jog.
“Thank you both,” says Wallace. “It’s great to have representation from the more senior members of the team. Hopefully, some of the juniors will follow your lead.”
“You can count on us.” Sara’s voice reverberates off the boardroom walls. She waves one hand in the air as if it were possible that anyone might not have heard her. “I’ll run!” says Sara. “And Andrew will too.”
“Well, I…” Andrew shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with being forced into this.
“Don’t worry, Liz, you can sit this one out,” Sara says, ignoring him and beaming back at me over her shoulder.
“I could do it.”
It’s not until everyone has turned in their chairs to look back at me that I realize I’ve spoken the words aloud.
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I didn’t catch that,” says Wallace. I feel the eyes of every person in the room on me. Every cell in my body is begging me to retreat. “What did you say?”
“I can do it.” I hear myself say with a conviction I most certainly do not feel. Why did I say that? Clearly, I am having some kind of out-of-body experience and have lost control of my mental faculties. Is this some sort of neurological condition?
“Excellent!” says Wallace. “Wonderful to see such dedication from our junior team. That’s our team of five, everyone.” He starts to clap and soon everyone in the room follows in uncertain clapping. “Now, onto the quarterly reports.”
* * *
The meeting comes to an end and I speed walk back to my office, dimming the lights and shutting the door behind me. I sit in my chair, close my eyes, and inhale slowly through my nose. I continue inhaling and exhaling in slow, controlled breaths. I tell myself that everything will be alright. I don’t need to know the solution right now to know that everything will work out.
When the wave of panic has passed, I slowly sit up and stretch my neck from side to side. I bring my shoulders up to my ears and back down, repeating the move three times. When I am sure I am calm, I allow myself to open my eyes. I reassure myself that everything will be okay. Now I am ready to brainstorm solutions for getting myself out of the mess I have created.
I grab a felt-tip pen and a fresh notepad. On the first page, I write “Reasons I can’t run a marathon” at the top and I underline it. I quickly jot down undisclosed medical conditions, cannot commit to training time, and religious reasons. I am honestly not sure what that last one could possibly be, but people get very uncomfortable when you tell them something goes against their faith, so I’m leaving it on the list. After thinking about it for a minute, I cross off time commitment. Angela has four kids and still manages to train, so I doubt I can convince anyone that I’m too busy to do it. A medical condition is probably my best bet. The only medical condition I’ve ever been treated for is anxiety. I’m certain my doctor would write me a note saying that I’m unable to train for medical reasons. Believe me, the thought of running a marathon is sending my anxiety through the roof.
A knock at the door makes me jump and I shove my notepad into my top drawer.
“Come in,” I call weakly. Andrew opens the door and gives me the classic head tilt of concern.
“You ran out of that meeting so fast, I thought that you might be getting a head start on your training.” He smirks at me as he hovers in the doorway.
“Was it that obvious?”
“Do you run at all?” He moves into my office and settles into one of the chairs facing my desk.
“I ran to catch the elevator this morning.” I slump in my chair.
“Come on.” He looks me over thoroughly. “You’re pretty… fit looking.”
“Thank you?” We both laugh at the ridiculousness of the conversation.
“Seriously, though. The run is not until May. We have so long to train for it.” He pauses. “We could do it together.” I briefly consider this. I’ve often wished to spend more time with Andrew out of the office, but not if it’s him dragging me huffing and puffing over hills and trails.
“Thank you, but I just can’t.”
“Getting cold feet already?” Sara appears from nowhere and we both startle. She perches on the arm of Andrew’s chair, even though there is a perfectly fine chair that is unoccupied beside him. Her arm drapes around the back behind him and she angles her cleavage in his general direction. “I haven’t run one before, but I’m in great shape from spin classes, so I’m definitely up for the challenge.” Her focus returns to me. “I’m sure Wallace will understand that you’ve changed your mind, Liz. You need to make the right call for you based on what your body is capable of.”
Hold the goddamn phone. I am a healthy twenty-five-year-old woman. I may lack any real muscle definition and endurance, but that doesn’t mean I can’t develop them. I have spent the last ten years accomplishing everything I’ve set my mind to; a marathon would be no different. The audacity of this Soul Cycle groupie fluttering into my office and telling me what I am and am not capable of makes my blood reach dangerous temperatures. Let me tell you what I’m capable of, stationary bike Barbie.
