“Whoa,” Marcus said. “That was awesome.”
“Or impossible,” Emma said.
“It’s not,” Roan said. “I promise you, by the end of our time together, you’ll be able to do it. We’ll work up to it bit by bit. It’s a goal. Something concrete to work toward.”
Julia raised her hand. “What about me?”
“After the baby comes and you’re cleared by your doctor, you can work toward it too. For now, you’ll focus on other things.”
Cody was staring at the rope with an intensity Roan recognized. Challenge accepted.
“We’ll work on it bit by bit,” Roan said. “But keep that bell in mind. That’s where we’re headed.”
He led them through a simple warm-up—dynamic stretches and three minutes of light cardio on their choice of equipment. Marcus chose the rower, Emma and Julia took the bikes, Cody hit the treadmill. Reese took the rower next to Marcus, pulling through the movement with perfect form that made it look effortless.
When the warm-up was done, Roan taught them the air squat—the foundation of functional fitness. He broke down the movement, demonstrated proper form, then had them try. Marcus’s knees caved inward at first, but with coaching he corrected it. Emma was too tense, holding her breath. Julia went as deep as her belly allowed. Cody dropped into a perfect squat like he’d been doing them his whole life.
And Reese squatted like she’d been doing CrossFit for years—hips back, chest up, perfect depth, smooth and controlled. Dancer’s strength on full display.
“All right,” Roan said after they’d practiced. “Now we’re going to do a workout. Just ten minutes. As many rounds as possible of five squats, five push-ups, and ten jumping jacks. You go at your own pace. If you need to rest, rest. If you need to modify—do push-ups against the wall, or step jacks instead of jumping—do it. The goal is to move for ten minutes.”
He demonstrated the modifications, made sure everyone understood, then set his timer.
“Three, two, one, go.”
They scattered and started moving. Emma went to the wall for push-ups immediately. Marcus dropped to the floor and struggled through three before switching to his knees. Julia modified everything but kept a steady pace. Cody’s form was solid—his body remembering the athlete he used to be.
And Reese flew through rounds, barely winded, moving with efficient grace that made everything look easy.
Roan circulated, watching, correcting, encouraging. “Marcus, elbows closer to your body.” “Julia, you’re doing great.” “Emma, breathe.”
By minute five, Emma stopped between rounds, hands on her knees. “I need a break.”
“Take it,” Roan said. “Water. Breathe. Jump back in when you’re ready.”
Thirty seconds later, she was back at it.
Marcus hit a wall at minute seven, collapsing onto his back. “I can’t.”
“You can,” Roan said. “Rest for twenty seconds, then give me one more round.”
Marcus lay there breathing hard, then pushed himself up and completed one more round before collapsing again.
Cody kept going, round after round, and Roan saw something shift in him. The kid was good at this. His body remembered how to push, how to work. Each squat was solid. Each push-up was strong. Athletic ability that had been dormant since his mother died was waking back up.
Reese was on her eighth or ninth round—Roan had lost count—showing no signs of slowing. Her squats remained deep and controlled. Her push-ups were flawless. Sweat gleamed on her skin, her ponytail swinging, and she moved like the workout was choreography she’d already memorized.
“One minute!” Roan called.
Everyone dug deep for a final push.
“Time!”
Emma immediately dropped to the floor on her back, arms spread wide. Marcus was already down, chest heaving. Julia bent over her knees, breathing hard but smiling. Cody stood with his hands on his hips, breathing heavy but still upright.
Reese straightened, barely winded, and reached for her water.
“Oh my God,” Emma said from the floor. “I’m dying.”
