Page 44 of Falling Backwards
I’m away from him,I assure myself as I hit the locks.I’m okay.Everything’s okay.
My sigh of relief is so huge it hurts.
But by the time I’m reversing out of my spot, only sparing another look for him to see he’s still on the sidewalk, it feels like a fist has gripped my insides and started shaking them.
“Everything’s okay,” I tell myself out loud.
I get out of the lot and onto the street.
“I’m safe.I’m okay.”
My voice is shaking, too, though, and my hands on the steering wheel, and even my foot against the gas pedal.
Even though I’m glad I’m safe—glad, relieved, thankful that that encounter didn’t take any number of bad turns—one scared question is growing in my mind.It’s getting bigger and bigger by the moment, feeding on these last couple of minutes and the other encounters we’ve had.
What is up with Kyle Danfords?
CHAPTER
FOUR
M A G G I E
“You can do it,” I breathlessly tell myself even though I don’t feel like I can finish the last thirty seconds of this workout.“Come on.It’s not gonna kill you, it’s just not easy.It’ssupposedto be…hard….”
Thigh muscles burning and skin sticky with sweat, I focus on the encouragements of the instructor lady on YouTube, and on how this is the fourth day I’ve followed along with this video, and on how the timer in the corner is ticking down.
I can finish this squat-and-jump combo.I can do it.I—
“I can’t,” I burst out.
My feet land out of a half-assed jump, and I fold forwards and drop my hands onto my knees.I rather feel like crumpling to the floor; my body wasn’t excited about this workout even before I started it, and now it really hates me.
“Ten more seconds!”the peppy instructor calls out.“Let’s go, guys!”
I close my eyes and listen to her cheer for the success of everyone who has ever finished the workout video with her.
Shame, disappointment, and frustration ripple through me as I try to catch my breath.
But I only allow that for a few moments.Then I shake my head at myself.I’m not a failure.This is the hardest I’ve done this workout since Emma, Joy, and I first tried it on Sunday morning.I thought I was ready to bump up my efforts, and I did all right for the most part.And this is the only time I haven’t gone to the very end.
Any amount of progress is important to me.
“Practice makes progress,” I whisper weakly.
That’s what Joy told me yesterday when, indeed, she and Emma reluctantly broke the news to me that these HIIT workouts aren’t for them.Sweet Joy—she had looked near tears even as she smiled and lovingly patted my shoulders.
“Just ’cause we’re quitting after a few tries doesn’t mean you can’t keep going,” she told me.“Okay, girl?You got this.It’s hard, but you got it.Practice makes progress.”
Emma chuckled even though she, too, had apology in her soft brown eyes.“True as that is, it sure makes us sound like hypocrites.‘Practice?Nah, but thanks.’That’s us.”
It did and also didn’t make them sound like hypocrites.I truly don’t mind them quitting.They’re in charge of their own bodies.I want them to be happy just like they want me to be happy.And in that vein, I’m glad they didn’t try to talk me out of the work, too, since they still don’t know why I’m doing it.
Damn, though.This sucks.
Does it really get easier, or am I going about it the wrong way?
