Summer Of Broken Hearts.

chapter 5

I pointed to the first place I wanted to visit. I looked at the huge map that my landlord had as a wallpaper and focused closely. "Copenhagen," I said to myself. "Okay, let's begin," I told myself again while I looked up places to stay and flights on my laptop.

Meanwhile, my phone seemed to blow up. It was Tinder. I had been doing this for a couple of weeks and could have made reservations earlier, but here I was, chatting with my matches on Tinder, trying to set up a date. I love coffee dates—coffee is my main fuel. But it seemed that they either ghosted me or stood me up and never contacted me again. What the hell, people!

So, I began to plan my holidays. Since Sara was in vacation mode, I also deserved a break. I made a reservation, unsure about all the changes and complications, but I did it. I made a reservation, and now there was no turning back.

I believed that going to Denmark was the right choice, and something was telling me to go. So I did.

When I finished everything, I went upstairs to my room. I put my laptop on the bed and started looking for swimsuits for Denmark, trying them on.

"Dear lord, Marta, what happened to your body?" I said to myself. That's when I became embarrassed about my body.

I had never felt this embarrassed about my body before. I used to be pretty fit, but this breakup made me wake up to a person I hated with my entire being. I didn't like the way my legs and tummy looked, nor the rest of my body.

I was regretting now going anywhere, especially spending the summer in Denmark. Denmark doesn't have the warmest weather, unlike Spain.

But I still wanted to go to the beach or a pool, and my body didn't look ready for that. These past few months had been awful for me. But this—this was beyond awful, and I needed to find a solution.

I needed a plan, a plan that would help me at least look decent. I knew that taking shortcuts wouldn't be good. I'd rather look fit enough than get sick and have to stick to some unhealthy regimen. I went to the scale. -OMG, when was the last time we got on this thing?- my subconscious asked.

Neither of my other inner voices could answer. For once, my inner demon and angel were silent. They were finally quiet.

200 pounds read the little screen. -Oh, you son of a bitch,- screamed my head. -Fucking hell,- complained my head again. I had reached ninety kilos. How did I become ninety kilos when I had always been sixty kilos?

That was the moment I knew I needed a change for good. I needed to stop self-destructing, or I might get worse than I already was. So I went to my room. While cleaning, I found an old notebook. It was an old diary where I used to write down my biggest goals and other things. I began to read it, and the more I read, the more I realized how dreamy I used to be.

Suddenly, I read a phrase saying, "I wish one day to run a marathon." I started to think that I did begin to train for one, but because of COVID-19 and Lydia, I kind of left it behind.

So I thought, -That's it. I will train for my first marathon and run it. How difficult can it be?-

I went to my laptop again and began looking up marathon training plans. I found so many that my brain nearly exploded.

I wished I could find someone to help me with this, but I guess it was my new journey to a new me. I started checking which training plan suited me best. My job was already demanding enough, so I needed a plan that wouldn't leave me exhausted.

I began to outline my running days, from the easy ones to intervals and threshold pace, from easy long runs to strength training days to help me become a better runner and prevent any injuries.

I was so absorbed in this that I even forgot to prepare dinner. Since it was Friday, I ordered some food and then put on a show on Netflix.

Everything was settled. Tomorrow, I would test my endurance and see how fit I really was.