I scanned the street, regretting choosing this one. It had more activity. We’d reached the heart of the Valley, where people shopped and met up for drinks after work, and I was willing to bet it made Natalie even more uncomfortable.
“See the right turn past Sally’s Café?” I pointed. “We’re gonna aim for the outskirts of this area again. It’ll get quieter.”
She nodded once. “Okay.”
Nobody could accuse her of being weak, at least. She pushed herself and did her best to maintain her composure, but I could tell the pain in her back was becoming too much.
Once we’d made the turn onto the side street, I pointed again, this time to the opening of an alley between two closed bars.
“We’ll get some rest in there,” I said. I wanted to get a better sense of how she stretched too, and we needed seclusion for that.
She breathed heavily. “I hate this.” Then she side-eyed me. “It’s the first time I’m not seeing you in a shirt with your gym logo.”
Because I wasn’t new here. Natalie ticked all the boxes of people who were ashamed of their health’s deterioration, and the last thing they wanted was to advertise the hard work they put into their recovery. She didn’t want complete strangers to judge her for walking next to someone who definitely looked like a PT.
“I don’t have to be a walking billboard all the time,” I settled for saying, ushering her into the alley. “Let’s stretch out that pain.” No dumpsters, stray cats, or terrible smell. This alley worked. “Can you bend over and arch your back for me?”
She shot me a brief, incredulous look, and I had to smirk. Good to know her mind could head for the gutter.
“Um, okay.” She positioned herself so her ass was away from me, and she bent over a little. Not enough, but we’d get there.
“I’m just gonna touch your lower back, all right?” I asked to make sure before I stepped closer.
“Okay,” she repeated.
I went to her side and flattened my hand along the base of her spine. “I want you to push upward now, so you can stretch out your spine.”
She let out a labored breath and complied, creating an upward arc of her back.
“Perfect. Do that for a few seconds before you relax—then repeat.” I eased my hand along her back. “What does your workout schedule look like this week?”
“Um…I’m trying to get into a routine of using the treadmill every morning, and then I come back in the evening to lift some weights.”
That was good. We’d discussed that strength training was important to rebuild her muscle mass and boost her metabolism.
“What are your thoughts on swimming?” I asked next, withdrawing my hand. “Our pool sits empty most days from noon till five PM.” In the mornings, we had two instructors taking turns hosting classes for senior citizens and parents with babies, and in the evenings, we had water aerobics.
“I love swimming, actually.” Natalie huffed a breath and straightened up, and she rubbed at her spine. “I feel better now.”
I took a step back and clasped my hands behind my back. “You ready to continue? We’ll take as many breaks as you need, but I’d like to up the pace a bit.”
She gave me one of those stiff smiles. “Super fun. Let’s go.”
I grinned.
Was the concept of lying to oneself moot if you were catching on to the fact that you were doing it?
I eyed all the flannel shirts I had in my closet. They were pressed tightly to the side to make room for shit I thought others liked. Formfitting pullovers, nice dress shirts, suits, and slacks that made my ass look incredible. But as time went on and I came home from horrible dates, I was beginning to have doubts.
The chick I’d had drinks with after work today had made me grateful I hadn’t asked her out to dinner.
But she wassupposedto have been a good match. She’d flirted with me at the gym, I’d eaten up the attention, she was younger and full of life, and I…hadn’t understood a word of what she’d rambled about. We hadn’t been on the same page in life for a moment. Working out and being healthy were the only things we had in common, and even that had felt off. Partly because I wasn’t sure I knew what the fuck I was doing anymore.
I was part of the big health machine chugging along on Instagram. I took the ginger shots, the supplements, and only ate and drank organic. And yet, I felt fucking obnoxious whenever I ordered food and had serious questions about the production and preparation.
I’d studied nutrition and physical health all my life. I could tailor a diet for most people. I knew what worked. I understood the whys and the hows. So, I very well fucking knew that not every beer I ordered in a bar needed to be organic. I knew that I wasn’t going to die or get sick if I had pancakes for breakfast one day instead of oatmeal with whey in it.
I preached about variety and moderation to clients but had very little of that for myself.
