For some reason Brandy couldn’t think of starting her training anywhere else but here, in front of Sabrina’s house. Even now, when Sabrina wasn’t even here, this was the only place that felt right. Maybe because, for just a little while, she’d learned to give her best and had felt as though someone might care whether or not she should succeed.
She took her place at the “starting line,” leaned slightly forward, then looked toward the house. “This one’s for you, Sabrina.”
Today was going to be interval training. It was the hardest, least enjoyable, and most downright painful of anything Sabrina had made her do. She would sprint all out, as fast as she could possibly go, for the first half of the block, then change to a slower jog to complete the circuit.
This was the type of training where, in the past, Brandy had been most prone to cheat. Push not quite as hard as she could during the first half, try to save a little something for later. Because, as she knew, later was going to be downright painful, even if she did hold back.
Not today. Today she was going to give everything she had. Maybe if she endured enough pain she could at some point forgive herself, at some point quit kicking herself for throwing away the closest thing to a friend she’d had in a long time. The same friend who was in the hospital, but who Brandy wouldn’t visit because she was sure her presence would just make things worse. She needed Sabrina; Sabrina didn’t need her.
On the first circuit, she blasted around the one corner and then the next, not allowing herself to slack off even a tiny bit until she’d completely crossed the driveway of the big blue house that marked the slowing point. When she switched into jog mode, she forced herself to move at a faster pace than normal for intervals. She took deep breaths, trying her best to quench her hunger for more air. By the time she reached the starting line again, she was still breathing hard but it was manageable. She took off again as hard as she could go. It hurt more than the last time, burning her lungs, her legs, her shoulders, but she refused to allow herself the luxury of easing up. She would take her punishment.
By the fifth lap, her legs had taken on something of a numbness, if something that hurt as much as this could be called numb. Her lungs, on the other hand, burned—screaming for more oxygen with every single breath she took, demanding that she stop.
At the end of the hour, she was barely upright. She rounded the corner in a jog, seeing the finish line fifty feet in front of her. She knew that she could stop now, with a clear conscience. She had pushed herself hard, until there was nothing left inside of her to push.
Yet when she approached the line, without ever consciously making the decision to do so, she began again at an all-out sprint. She tried to focus on something else besides the pain, but her mind was locked as tight as her muscles. The world around her blurred, and the sidewalk seemed to move in waves around her burning calves. Burning calves . . . what was it Sabrina called this? There was a word . . . some kind of acid, wasn’t it? Lactic acid, yes, that’s what it was called. Yes, there was definitely acid inside her muscles at this point, and there had been for a long time now.
When she reached the blue house’s driveway, she could hear her wheezing breaths, and so could anyone on this half of the block, she was more than certain. She reached up to wipe her face with the hem of her shirt, but realized it was no good, her shirt was soaked through. She almost cried with relief when she reached the jog stage. Just half a block to go and she could stop and walk it out. That thought alone kept her going one step after the other.
She turned the corner and saw the starting line ahead of her, the finish line this time. Her legs were reduced to quivering mush, making her feel shaky all over. Looking back on it, she could never understand why it was she broke into a full run once she reached what should have been that blessed spot of relief.
A half-dozen laps later, Brandy dove across the finish line and simply lay in a quivering mass on the sidewalk. She stared up into the white fluffiness in the sky above her and wished that she could fly.