Milked

Meghranush | stamina.

Shane texted the day before I was scheduled to meet Richard and asked me, "Want to go running?"

I responded, "Of course!"

In the weeks since my previous night with Richard, I had been feeling so much shame, enough shame to clog my mind, to prevent me from thinking straight about everything else in life, to make me doubt my self-identity.

Running would distract me, I decided: it would exfoliate the shameful thoughts from my mind. I could dedicate my time to training for the half marathon with Shane, and not worry about my impending meeting with Richard. This also served as a way to get Shane off of my back, since he kept texting me about Richard. All of my responses were lies: "Everything is fine. Don't worry. I won't go over to his house. I'm handling it."

I met Shane at his house; then he drove us to the bottom of Camelback Mountain for our run.

When we parked at the trailhead, I asked, "So...how long is this run?"

"About three miles to the summit and back. It will be the perfect run to start your training. Think you're ready?"

"Well, whenever I run on the treadmill, I never set the inclination above zero. So, no."

He smiled his enticing it will be alright smile. "You'll do fine. We'll start out at a slow pace. There is some elevation gain, but you'll do great."

We got out of the car and stretched, and then started running at Shane's "slow" pace, and after what couldn't have been more than a half mile, I felt like dying. And I remembered what Loren had told me about him. He'll use his soothing tone to make you think that going a little bit harder is your idea, but really, it's all him.

Loren had told the truth. As Shane and I were running, I had no doubts he had the ability to jet ahead of me, but he stayed with me, using a soothing tone, telling me, "You're doing great. Push yourself a little bit harder, and you'll thank yourself later." At one point, he even turned around and run backwards to cheer me on, barely out of breath.

My breath had completely escaped me. Going up the mountain was a mental battle. My legs felt like lead, objecting to my every movement. I had to will myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

And the worst part was that thoughts of Richard and our night together kept creeping into my mind, making me feel like my personal shame was flooding the trail and I needed to wade through it, causing the run up this mountain to be much more difficult. I thought about my parents, and I thought about God, and I felt like curling up into a fetal ball on the trail and crying.

When we finally reached the summit, Shane let us have a break, and I gulped down half of my water. He stretched as he told me, "We're about to descend, and you need to know that downhill running injuries are much more common, and you should be careful. Okay?"

I nodded at him. Then, we started our descent.

Running downhill was much easier, and I found myself completely disregarding Shane's advice. I ran fast and hard. Gravity didn't affect me the way it had on the way up, and thoughts of Richard didn't, either. I would make it to the end; I knew it.

And so I ran down Camelback Mountain, feeling the wind on my face, feeling free.

"Wow, speedster," Shane said, once we had stopped near his parked car. "You were totally ready for this run."

"No," I said. "I wasn't ready. But you helped. Thanks for putting up with me."

"I'm always happy to have someone to run with." We got into his car and shut the doors; then he started the ignition and pulled away from the trailhead. "I wish Loren would run with me."