Read Online My Remedy (Open Door Love Story Book 3) by Stacey Wallace Benefiel - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stacey Wallace Benefiel
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minutes of my life. By the time we hit fifteen minutes, I can’t wait to run the four hundred meters because it’s a break from the neverending hell that is burpees, air squats, and mountain climbers. All innocuous enough, but when combined for an endless amount of time – I feel like, forget waterboarding, we could get info out of terrorist a lot faster if we just forced them to CrossFit.
The clock apparently goes off while I’m dragging my ass back through the parking lot because a swarm of people come outside, panting and sucking off water bottles and start walking circles in front of the door. Inside, the rest of the people are lying on the floor, trying to get their breathing to go back to normal. I go over and collapse next to Duncan. We’ve used up all of our chips.
“Nice job, partner.” He holds his hand up for me to high-five, but I can’t seem to make my arms work.
Eventually, we peel ourselves off the floor. Duncan goes to get us some water.
“Sweat angel,” Janna says to me as she walks by to put her large stack of chips back in the holder.
I turn around and see that I have indeed left a giant, wet imprint of my torso on the black mat. The largeness of my flabby ass is especially noticeable. I swipe my shoe through it trying to get it to dry faster.
“What did you think?” Hector asks, clapping a hand on my sweaty back. He’s also drenched in sweat, but he seems really happy about it.
“I didn’t die?” I manage to reply.
Lorilee saunters by, chuckling. “That a girl.”
Chapter Nine
––––––––
A fter being warned by no less than twelve people that I’m “going to want to stretch really well,” I take it to heart. Gaby tells me she’ll get her clothes from me the next time we’re both at the gym and leaves before I can tell her there might not be a next time.
Duncan leads me over to the pull up bar station – a row of pull up bars all lined up against the back wall of the box – and tosses a square padded mat on the ground.
“This is called the death stretch,” he explains, kneeling down on the mat. He puts one foot flat on the mat with his knee up and bends his other leg up so his heel is touching his butt and the top of his foot is against one of the pull up station posts. Then he straightens his back as much as he can. The expression on his face is one of utter agony.
“No way am I doing that,” I say.
He points to his face. “This is my good pain face, I promise. If you don’t do this you’ll be able to walk even less than you’re already not going to be able to walk.”
“I actually feel okay. I think you’re all underestimating how in shape I am.”
Duncan snorts and loses his balance, falling over onto his side. “Just do the stretch, Izzy.”
I get on my knees and find that my first obstacle is simply getting into position. I can put my leg back on the post or I can bend my knee and put my foot on the mat. I can’t do both of these things at the same time.
“I didn’t know I was going to be expected to do yoga,” I say, failing for the third time.
“This is called mobility. Sasha actually does teach yoga on Wednesday nights – we call it yobility. And you definitely could use her help.” Duncan holds onto the tops of my arms and lets me lean into him while I get set up. Success! He takes my hands and places them on my bended knee, slowing scooting away.
“Oh my God, this hurts.” I find my face can’t stop itself from contorting. My eyes squeeze mostly closed and I have to purse my lips to keep from moaning.
Hector comes over and stands next to me, tapping a clipboard against his massive thigh. “Damn Izzy, you need some yobility stat.”
“She’s working on it,” Duncan says. He takes my hands while I un-pretzel myself. “Switch legs.”
If it is at all possible, this leg hurts more.
Hector laughs. “Ah, you found your bad side. Everyone has one.” He holds the clipboard in front of my face. There’s a contract on
The clock apparently goes off while I’m dragging my ass back through the parking lot because a swarm of people come outside, panting and sucking off water bottles and start walking circles in front of the door. Inside, the rest of the people are lying on the floor, trying to get their breathing to go back to normal. I go over and collapse next to Duncan. We’ve used up all of our chips.
“Nice job, partner.” He holds his hand up for me to high-five, but I can’t seem to make my arms work.
Eventually, we peel ourselves off the floor. Duncan goes to get us some water.
“Sweat angel,” Janna says to me as she walks by to put her large stack of chips back in the holder.
I turn around and see that I have indeed left a giant, wet imprint of my torso on the black mat. The largeness of my flabby ass is especially noticeable. I swipe my shoe through it trying to get it to dry faster.
“What did you think?” Hector asks, clapping a hand on my sweaty back. He’s also drenched in sweat, but he seems really happy about it.
“I didn’t die?” I manage to reply.
Lorilee saunters by, chuckling. “That a girl.”
Chapter Nine
––––––––
A fter being warned by no less than twelve people that I’m “going to want to stretch really well,” I take it to heart. Gaby tells me she’ll get her clothes from me the next time we’re both at the gym and leaves before I can tell her there might not be a next time.
Duncan leads me over to the pull up bar station – a row of pull up bars all lined up against the back wall of the box – and tosses a square padded mat on the ground.
“This is called the death stretch,” he explains, kneeling down on the mat. He puts one foot flat on the mat with his knee up and bends his other leg up so his heel is touching his butt and the top of his foot is against one of the pull up station posts. Then he straightens his back as much as he can. The expression on his face is one of utter agony.
“No way am I doing that,” I say.
He points to his face. “This is my good pain face, I promise. If you don’t do this you’ll be able to walk even less than you’re already not going to be able to walk.”
“I actually feel okay. I think you’re all underestimating how in shape I am.”
Duncan snorts and loses his balance, falling over onto his side. “Just do the stretch, Izzy.”
I get on my knees and find that my first obstacle is simply getting into position. I can put my leg back on the post or I can bend my knee and put my foot on the mat. I can’t do both of these things at the same time.
“I didn’t know I was going to be expected to do yoga,” I say, failing for the third time.
“This is called mobility. Sasha actually does teach yoga on Wednesday nights – we call it yobility. And you definitely could use her help.” Duncan holds onto the tops of my arms and lets me lean into him while I get set up. Success! He takes my hands and places them on my bended knee, slowing scooting away.
“Oh my God, this hurts.” I find my face can’t stop itself from contorting. My eyes squeeze mostly closed and I have to purse my lips to keep from moaning.
Hector comes over and stands next to me, tapping a clipboard against his massive thigh. “Damn Izzy, you need some yobility stat.”
“She’s working on it,” Duncan says. He takes my hands while I un-pretzel myself. “Switch legs.”
If it is at all possible, this leg hurts more.
Hector laughs. “Ah, you found your bad side. Everyone has one.” He holds the clipboard in front of my face. There’s a contract on
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