Run Bad Boy Run

Chapter 24

 As great as a person may feel afterwards and as amazing as it is for a person's body, I have to admit that I hate exercising.

It's just so...physical.

You'd think after working so hard to get into shape, I'd magically learn to love running to the point of almost passing out. I thought I would too. Props to the track team—they want to do this.

For some odd reason, I'm afraid of running on treadmills. I always feel like if I let go of the bar I'm going to fall on my face.

The soccer team has already left for their away game two hours south of Madison and though the football team is still practicing on the turf, I've already made a fool of myself in front of them too many times to care about looking like a tomato on the verge of an asthma attack.

Nate wasn't at school today, either. He left abruptly in the middle of the day Tuesday and hasn't been back since.

I hope everything is okay.

"Move it! Let's keep running, Ember!" Gabby calls over her shoulder, fifty feet ahead. Having your highly motivated, sometimes annoying as hell, best friend as your trainer has its ups and downs.

Like right now for instance.

My parched throat constricts painfully as I struggle to catch my breath, feeling like someone is stabbing me repeatedly in the ribs. The white lines of the track blur together to form a pattern that begins to make my head hurt and I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be seeing stars in my vision.

"I can't do it!" I heave, coming to a stop and dropping to my knees. Gabby jogs over and I let out another gasp for added effect, falling onto my back. "I give up!"

She snickers. "You're acting like you've never done this before." The girl hardly looks winded. "Come on! Get up! Just a few more laps and then we'll go do some weights and stretches."

"Not the weights!" I groan. "Leave me here to drown in my pain."

"Hmm... Now as tempting as that is...No! Get up!"

I drag my heavy limbs across the cold ground and push up into a sitting position.

"This is what happens when you don't work out in a month."

I throw my best friend and annoyed glare and rub my aching ankles. "Sorry I was a bit preoccupied."

She crosses her arms over her chest and replies smugly, "No excuses."

"I feel gross." I wipe the sweat from my forehead and neck. "And in real need of a cheeseburger."

"Ember."

"A juicy patty snug between two warm buns with just the right amount of pickles, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, ketchup, cheese, and mustard."

Gabby throws a blue Gatorade bottle at me and I chug down the cool liquid quickly. We stand and watch the football team go through drills up and down the field, lifting their knees up to their chests and hopping down to the twenty yard line and back.

"Alright, let's just shower and go to the store for some vitamins," Gabby offers. "We'll skip the weights and stretches okay?"

"You're such a health nut."

"Well how would you get healthy if I weren't?"

True.

Gabby did play a major role in getting me into shape. Her mom was my doctor at the time and it was perfect working out with Gabby because she knew what I needed to do. Some people are blessed with high metabolisms while others have to work for it. I guess that's just life.