“Yeah,” she admitted. “I’m a bit nervous. Okay, make that really nervous. I’m so out of shape.”
“You’ll be fine,” he said, smiling. “Just relax and have fun.”
Relax and have fun. She could do that.
“Thanks.” She grabbed the handle again and let herself in. Her new friend followed. “Are you visiting town?” she asked as they climbed the stairs. Perhaps it was just her, but having the gym located at the top of a flight of stairs seemed unnecessarily cruel. Especially when her legs ached from yesterday.
“Yeah, I’m here until the end of February, teaching some kiddies how to surf.”
She nodded. “With Logan?”
“That’s right. And you?”
“Oh, I’m a local.”
“But you’ve never been to the gym before?”
She paused at the top of the stairs and pushed her hair back off her face to look down at him. “I haven’t been in the best of health.” She held out her hand. “I’m Brooke.”
“Riley,” he said. “I’ll be around if you need a hand with anything.”
“Thanks. That’s sweet of you.” After opening the door, she beelined to Bex, her chin tucked down because she had the odd sensation that people were judging her. Ridiculous, when she’d never felt that way when she’d visited before. It was all in her head.
“Hi, Bex.” She greeted her friend with an anxious smile. “I’m here, and ready to go.”
Bex took one look at her, threw back her head, and laughed. “Calm down, Brookie. You’re not marching to your doom.” Coming around behind her, Bex dug her thumbs into the tense muscles of Brooke’s upper back.
Brooke moaned. “That’s so good.”
“You sound positively pornographic.” But she didn’t stop kneading.
“Yeah, Bex, give it to me more,” Brooke teased.
Bex spun her around and raised a brow. “You talk like that and these knuckleheads won’t let you leave until they’ve tried to get into your pants.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She doubted the hot gym guys would look twice at her. “I’m a bit sore from a hike Jack and I did yesterday, but I’ll try not to let it slow me down.”
“Where does it hurt?” Bex asked, evaluating her.
“Legs, back, feet.” She nibbled on her lip. “I may or may not have worn brand new boots and gotten a few blisters.”
Shaking her head, Bex murmured “Nincompoop” affectionately. “We’ll need to warm you up first, and hopefully your muscles loosen up a bit once that happens. There’s not much I can do about your feet, but let me know if it gets too painful and we’ll stop, okay?”
“Okay.” Brooke snapped the elastic band off her wrist and tied her hair back. Butterflies danced in her stomach, but thanks to Bex, they were of the excited variety rather than the terrified type. “So, where am I starting?”
Bex walked to three treadmills lined up by the window that overlooked the square. “Five minutes jogging, just to limber up. Set the pace at six miles per hour and adjust it if you need to, but try not to walk.”
“Okay,” Brooke agreed. “I can do that.”
“If for any reason you need to stop immediately, hit the big red button.”
Brooke nodded, even as she knew she would not hit the big red button. Would. Not. For any reason. Bex wandered off. Scanning the buttons, Brooke found the one that read “Quick Start”. The belt started moving. She waited until she’d gotten a feel for the speed, then stepped onto it, pacing quickly so she didn’t fall off or trip. The screen said she was moving at two miles per hour, so she hit an up arrow and the speed climbed. She started jogging, and by the time she reached six miles per hour, as Bex had recommended, she was panting and struggling to move her legs fast enough to stay in place.
Glancing at the timer, she saw fifty seconds had passed. Dear God, this was the warmup?
Everest Base Camp, she reminded herself, and refused to wave the white flag. Finally, the five minutes were up and she slid off the end, bracing her hands on her thighs and sucking in deep breaths.
Someone patted her on the back. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Riley smiling down at her. “You’re doing good,” he said. “Keep it up.”
“Thanks,” she wheezed, and reached into her pocket for her inhaler as she headed over to a machine that looked like a torture device. When she’d eased the ache in her lungs, she waved and caught Bex’s attention. “What next?”
Bex consulted her tablet. “Leg presses. They help strengthen your hamstrings, which will be important when you’re carrying a heavy bag uphill.”
“Mmhmm,” Brooke said, like she knew what hamstrings were, then followed Bex to an exercise machine with a seat facing a metal plate. At least she’d be sitting down. How bad could it be? The diagram beside the machine showed a person with the balls of their feet pressed to the plate. She assumed it was connected to the stack of weights beside the seat. She sat, put her feet on the plate and tried to push. It didn’t budge an inch.
“It might be easier if it weren’t set to a two hundred pounds,” Bex remarked, her lips twitching.
“Oh, yeah,” Brooke said, feeling like a fool. “How do I change it?”
“Use the peg to your right and slot it into the number you want to lift.” She scanned Brooke’s body critically, no doubt noting the lack of muscle mass. “For you, I’d start with thirty pounds and increase if that’s too easy.”
Brooke moved the peg and tried again, this time with more success.
“Good,” Bex said. “Now do a set of ten. If you’re not struggling by the end, increase up to the next weight bracket. I want you to do forty total, got it?”
Brooke did as she was told. Her thighs burned, but it was a good burn. Under Bex’s instruction, she learned how to use several other machines, and how to properly do crunches and other abdominal exercises. By the time she finished, everything ached, but she was also totally exhilarated and felt like she could leap high enough to reach the ceiling.
She skipped over to Riley and his friend, who were spotting each other for bench pressing. “Spotting,” she’d learned, was when people buddied up to make sure they were safe when doing heavy weights or risky exercises. She’d also discovered that she’d been completely wrong to assume gym buffs would look down on her.
“I did it,” she exclaimed. “One day down, about two hundred to go.”
Riley’s friend finished with the bar, and together he and Riley placed it on the rack, then Riley high-fived her.
“Will we see you back here tomorrow?” he asked.
“Tomorrow or the next day,” she replied. “Depends when I can walk again. Thanks for being so encouraging.”
“My pleasure,” Riley said. “See you round, Brooke.”
She left the guys and danced to the far end of The Hideaway, where Bex’s easel was positioned in front of the window on the ocean-view side of the building. Her friend was sketching, and Brooke assumed she’d fill the lines in with paint later.
“That was awesome,” she said. “Once I got over my nerves. Thanks so much. I actually feel like this is real now. I could get to Everest.” She squealed a little. “I just need to do this every day for the next eight months.”