WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU PUMPKINS , james potter

━ five. no rest for the weary

CHAPTER FIVE:
- no rest for the weary -
1977

RUNNING HAD ALWAYS BEEN A SOLACE for Madeline. When she ran, she didn't have to think, her body simply moved on its own.

     Left leg. Right leg. Breathe. Repeat.

     There were few things she enjoyed, but running was the one that gave Madeline the most adrenaline. It made her feel free, like she could accomplish anything. She could go as fast, or slow, as near, as far as she wanted to. She was in control, no one else.

     Upon her release, Madam Pomfrey told Madeline to take it easy her first week back, get some rest, yeah, yeah— no. The very first thing Madeline did was her homework. It'd been hours of diving into her textbooks and taking notes and re-reading sections and making flashcards. She didn't stop until more than half was complete. And by then it's like, why not finish the rest?

     Take it easy? Pft.

     There was simply no rest for the weary.

     Immediately after her homework spree, she went for a jog— though, it had quickly turned into a run, and then a sprint. Her joints ached and her head felt light, but, Merlin, did she feel alive!

More often than not, Madeline found herself going for early morning jogs around the quidditch pitch. She wasn't an athlete or anything of the sort— she didn't have the time for quidditch (Hogwarts offered no other sports). But just because you're not flying around a broomstick and throwing around quaffles doesn't mean you shouldn't take care of yourself. Your body is the only one you're gonna have, so why not treat it well? Fruits and veggies, morning jogs and stretches, all that good stuff were big parts in her regime.

Madeline could go on for days about health— mental, emotional and physical— which was so ironic, a lifeguard drowning paled in comparison. She cared for herself, yes, but she always managed to somehow push herself a little too far. Madeline strongly believed in setting boundaries for other people, in fact it's what she spent most of her life creating. But what about setting boundaries for herself?

By the time Madeline completed what should be around her third mile, she was wheezing with black spots infiltrating her vision. Groaning, she rubbed her head, wishing she'd listened to Madam Pomfrey (well, she didn't, but her aching head and blurry vision sure did).

She made her way to the bleachers, not feeling exactly how far she'd pushed herself until she sat down. There was something about relaxing after a hard day that was stressful. The knot in her back, the pain between her shoulder blades, the pounding in her head, the soreness of her feet, all of it had been easy to ignore when she was working or running. It was easier to ignore the pain when you had a goal to work towards. It was after that hurt the most.

For the most part, the quidditch pitch was empty, not like Madeline would have really noticed. She was too busy wiping the sweat from her forehead and enjoying the cool air. Dinner was sure to be soon, in an hour or two, and yet Madeline couldn't bring herself to leave. Going to dinner meant eating in the dining hall. Eating in the dining hall meant talking to Asmara. Talking to Asmara meant a life time of headaches.

Madeline hadn't seen much of Asmara. She'd been told by Madam Pomfrey that she was visited by a crying first year. It didn't take much to realize she was talking about Asmara. Madeline didn't have the stomach for dinner or an emotional kid. As a matter of fact, she wasn't sure if she even had the stomach to get up from the bleachers. Maybe that didn't matter though. For now, she was content with sitting in silence.