He looks at me like I’m out of my mind. Then he glances down at his phone. “Almost three.”
“OK.” I reach for the candlestick. Somehow I hadn’t realized that our fingers would touch. And there’s something about those touches, something I’ll never understand. Little bolts of lightning that turn into liquid heat. Henry’s eyes darken as they wander down from mine to my mouth. The candlelight flickers in his eyes, and I go weak at the knees. He’s holding his breath; I can see it. “We have to get to bed.”
“Why?” Henry asks, and my stomach leaps as I hear the quiet disappointment in his voice.
“Because tomorrow morning we’re going for a run.”
11
Henry
She’s hardcore. She’s even tougher than Mr.Cormack, and I’d never have thought that was possible.
Running an extra four times a week—that’s right, on top of the morning run. An hour at medium intensity at five thirty on Tuesday and Friday mornings with the morning run as our cooldown. Seriously. An actual cooldown. I want to cry. And throw up. And lie down and never get up again. Not necessarily in that order.
Wednesdays and Saturdays are for technique and coordination, followed by tempo runs on the track. Oh, yeah, and stretching exercises every day, using this foam roller thing that’s definitely the work of the devil.
But I guess this is a good thing. I’m really having to work at it. I remember Maeve’s cheery messages to our WhatsApp group when I mentioned that I’d got onto the team on probation.See! I knew you could do it!And Theo’sDon’t embarrass me now.
“If it’s not too much for you, we could add in strength training, once or twice a week,” says Emma. “It’s important to workon your core and explosive strength. But that’s up to you to decide.”
How can she talk so much while she’s running beside me? OK, so they say that you should keep your training at a level where you can still chat as you run, but that never seems to work out for me. We’re only jogging slowly, but I still feel like my heart’s going to burst out of my chest after three minutes tops.
“Yeah, sounds good,” I pant. She’s really trying hard to hide it, but I know perfectly well that she’s grinning at me being out of breath yet again.
It’s only your second week of training, Henry. You have to give your body time to get used to this new workload. It’ll take at least a month, if not two, for you to notice any improvement in your stamina. That’s perfectly normal.I don’t really believe that, but nobody asks me. So I just try to keep up. I’ll never comprehend how Emma can be so fast. Or how she can actually enjoy this. Never, never, never.
“Watch your posture,” she says, and I force myself to tense my stomach again. I have to stay straight and not arch my back or I’ll hurt myself. God, I always thought running was simple—I mean, it’s as natural as walking—but nobody ever told me how wrongly you can do it.
“I went into the gym for the first time on Saturday,” she continues. “The facilities here are amazing! We need to do loads with resistance bands and the roller. No more shin splints, Henry.”
“Could we train on the running machines sometimes?” I suggest.
Emma just laughs, so I wave goodbye to that idea.
“In impact terms, it just doesn’t compare to outdoors. Andyou’re training for the rugby pitch. Wet, muddy grass. We’ll be much better off out on the grounds.”
I’d sigh, but I don’t have the breath for it.
“We might use the machines sometimes in bad weather,” Emma concedes later.
“It’s meant to rain next week.”
She laughs. Damn. “Rain’s no reason not to run. I meant more like hail and snow. Do you get much snow here?”
“Sometimes...” Not very often. Oh, man, I’m so screwed.
“You’ll soon make progress, honestly.”
I doubt that, but what choice do I have? I need to get fitter, and even this shitty endurance training must be basically the same as anything else. If you keep working and persevering, eventually you’ll succeed. But I’d way rather spend hours cramming in the library than doing this much running.
I want to stop. I think it with every step.
I could stop.
Next step.
Got to stop.
