A FEW WEEKS after checking out the Chicago Girls Run It website, I’m at my first volunteer session, where I meet their program director as well as their communications director. As we introduce ourselves and chitchat, I tell them how I’m excited because I always found community outreach to be the best part of doing public relations, and they’re equally excited by my PR background. Our conversation makes me realize that the whole time I was over at PR Worldwide, my tribe was out here. And while I don’t want to seem too forward since I’ve only officially volunteered as a running buddy, I offer any pro bono services or advice they may need in this regard.
The girl I’m partnered with for running is ten-year-old Gabriela. Since I’ve come on midseason and am replacing the previous volunteer who had to opt out because of recurring tendonitis, I’m a little nervous. She’s kind of a big kid for her age and I would have guessed she was in junior high by her height. As someone who surpassed everyone’s height in my class at her age, I can relate. And although she stands out the most in her age group, she’s also the most shy. I’m a little out of practice with kids, but to break the ice I ask her where she goes to school and how long she’s been running. I also explain how it’s my first day and Gabriela promises to take care of me. And, this? This is why kids are awesome.
She’s new to running, and so we take everything at her pace, which is fairly slow and conducive to conversation.
“So what made you join Girls Run It?” I ask Gabriela.
“My mom.” She rolls her eyes and says this in a tone I instantly recognize and relate to.
I laugh sympathetically. “I see. And, so, why did she want you to join?”
“She thinks I spend too much time on the computer. She thinks I need to get outside more and get some exercise.” She’s breathing a little hard and pauses before continuing. “She doesn’t understand that I spend so much time on the computer because when I grow up I want to be a software engineer.”
“A software engineer! That’s great! I take it you’re good with math and coding.”
“Yeah. And I want to do something cool. Like make games or something that people love.”
“So, then, are you liking Girls Run It? Or would you rather be at home on your computer?” I shoot her a sly smile that she returns.
“It’s fine. I like the other girls, and I really like that it gets my mom off my back so I can spend the rest of the weekend on my computer without her saying anything.” She grins at me.
“Ha! I get it.”
As we practice, she tells me more about her family (it’s just her and her mother) and why her mother thought she would like this program to meet other kids outside of her school. By the end of our first run, I feel like Gabriela and I are going to be great friends.
Filled with adrenaline, I run straight from the park to The Cauldron without stopping at home to change. The first person I want to tell about my morning is Eric, not Jordan. I tell myself it’s because Eric was with me when I saw the group, but I know that it’s more than that. I find myself wanting to tell Eric everything first about everything, which is easy since I see him every day in the coffeehouse. We’ve also started doing a weekly morning run on Tuesdays and he’s invited me to check out his CrossFit box. I thought I was fit, and then I tried CrossFit and could barely lift my arms for a week afterwards. We’ve had dinner in the neighborhood a couple times, and I’ve brought him my healthy leftovers for lunch, and I’ve tried his new healthy bakery items to give him my opinion. It’s gotten to the point where Brian will joke when I walk through the door, “Eric, your girlfriend is here,” and I secretly like it. But, fortunately or unfortunately, everything has remained platonic between us.
As I near the coffeehouse, I see Eric sitting at a table by the windows and sitting across from him is a brunette. As I get even closer, I see that she’s probably around my age and has long, tousled locks, olive skin, and light-colored smiling eyes. She’s clearly laughing at something he’s saying. My heart is suddenly in my throat, and I stop walking to stare at them in the window. They must be finishing up their conversation because the woman stands up and Eric gives her one of his big bear hugs. I don’t want to know if he’s going to kiss her, so I immediately turn away and run back home.
I AVOID THE coffeehouse all weekend. Eric sends me a couple texts of the What’s up? variety, and while I don’t completely ignore them, I simply text back, Busy weekend. See you, Monday! in order not to invite any further communications. I’m shocked by how jealous I am. But why am I surprised? Eric is single and hot, and so why wouldn’t he be dating? What if he’s on one of those swipe-left-or-right apps getting his groove on? I can’t bear the thought and stay holed up in my condo for fear of running into him and possibly one of his dates.
At ten o’clock Monday morning, I’m sitting at my regular table in the corner waiting for Eric for our status meeting. Though we talk every day, it’s a nice routine to officially discuss goals for the coming week or any issues. The issue at the top of my mind is, Who was that brunette? but I know better than to go there.
Eric brings me a latte that I didn’t order. “Morning,” he says, setting down my drink and taking the seat across from me.
“Morning and thank you,” I say politely, even though my heart is very sad at the moment.
“How was your weekend?” he asks.
“Good. Yours?” I take a careful sip of my latte to gauge its temperature, hot, and then blow on it.
“Good. Busy.” He gives me a searching look. “I was surprised I didn’t see you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I wanted to know how your first day with Girls Run It went.”
Oh. “It was great.” I go on to tell him about Gabriela and meeting the program and communications directors. I’m probably not as enthusiastic a storyteller as I would have been Saturday morning, before seeing the brunette, but I give him the gist.
“When is the 5K?” he asks.
“Labor Day weekend,” I say. “So in two weeks. Training started a while ago, so I’m filling in for an injured volunteer.”
“I’d love to be there and cheer you on. Let me know what time so I can coordinate my schedule.”
Last week it would have warmed my heart that he wanted to cheer me on, but now I wonder if he’ll bring a date.
“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that,” I say, waving my hand airily as if this run is no big deal.
“Are you kidding? I don’t have to, but I want to. I was the one who suggested you volunteer, so the least I can do is be there.”
“Um, okay. Thanks. I’ll email you the info.” I fiddle with my laptop. “So should we talk about this week?”
He leans back and says, “You’re the boss.”
Even though we talk business, the whole time I can’t help thinking: If I’m “the boss,” then who is The Brunette?
At the Girls Run It 5K, I’m bouncing on my toes and looking around for Eric. I know I said he didn’t have to show up (for fear he’d bring The Brunette), but when I don’t see him, it takes a little of the spring out of my step. I’ve successfully managed to avoid him in person for the last couple weeks unless it was strictly business-related. Now that I’m aware of my feelings for him, and my jealous streak, I’m worried I’ll screw something up with my consulting gig. But, let’s face it, Neil never showed up to my events. Sure, he said he was disappointed when I gave them up, but then it wasn’t like he was exactly supporting me either. Eric made me feel like a rock star at a time when I felt anything but and has only been supportive of pretty much everything I do and say. Though I’ve been trying to find my inner strength and not be so tied to others’ expectations, I can’t help but value his approval and acceptance. Still, I know I can’t be dependent on it. Especially, when he’s not mine.