Exquisite.
I roll my shoulders back and attempt to focus. The plan is to take the lakefront trail south and see how she’s feeling. I'd love to pack up the bikes and head west to the forest preserve and spend hours pedaling with her through the woods but I also want to be close to help if she decides to try and train with the wrong equipment again.
Concern prickles behind my ears and the snap of my gum echoes around me.
“C’mon Laney, pick up.” I mutter into the phone as I call her.
No answer.
How long am I supposed to wait for her?
Why hasn't she told me she's on her way?
How am I supposed to find her if she’s having a problem?
Who else is around to help her?
I call again and turn in a small circle as I do. Not many others are out today, with the rain in the forecast. When I’ve turned halfway around I see her.
Rolling slowly towards me on her bike.
She casually raises a hand and waves.
"Where the hell have you been?" I wince at the bite in my voice. Chastising her will help nothing but it’s the worry in my chest speaking.
"Hello to you too,Coach." The use of my nickname laced with sass pricks my nerves. "I got a flat so I had to fix it." She says as she rolls to stop in front of me. "I'm not that late."
"Over fifteen minutes." I inform her and I continue before I can think better of it. "Are you taking this seriously? I took you on because I thought you'd be dedicated to improving yourself."
"I'm fifteen minutes late because of a flat tire." She delivers the sentence with no emotion. It sends chills down my spine. "I fixed it myself and you don't think I'm dedicated? Seriously. Fuck off Miguel." She stands over her bike.
"Why didn’t you text me an update?"
"Because I thought I could make up most of the time."
"So you’ve burned yourself out just getting here?" Does she not understand how endurance training works?
"I might have pushed it a little but I’m fine. Test me Coach, ride me."
I would give anything.
But I ignore my lust addled brain and barrel forward in my attempt to be the influence she needs.
"You want a test? You want me to ride you?" I see the heat flare in her eyes. "Then show me you respect me. Show me you respect the process. The sport."
"Fine! What do you want me to do?” She throws her hands out wide as she balances on her bike saddle.
"Communicate with me. Show up ready. With the right equipment."
"I am!" She yells back. A part of me loves the fire in her tone. The other part of me wants her to understand she can’t speak to me that way. "I'm out here giving literally everything to this. I have nothing without it anyway. I'm doing the best with what I've got."
Darker clouds roll in, punctuating her statement.
She's breathing heavily from her outburst and after seeing her nearly freeze to death the heat in her angry stare is welcome even if I’d rather her simply submit to my plan.
The fact remains, fire is something I can work with.
Defeat I can’t.
