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“You don’t need to prove it every chance you get. Can we go back now?”
“Believe it or not, they’re more active down along the coast,” Pierce explained. “If you want to avoid them, you’re better off continuing into the jungle with me. But if you want to turn back, go right ahead.”
Groaning in a way that was definitely not pleasurable, I followed Pierce into the jungle.
Dinner that night was a succulent redfish with vegetables and wild rice. Like every night, it was the four of us: me, Pierce, Andrew, and Tristan. Once I got over my awkwardness—with the help of a few glasses of wine—I realized that I had been enjoying the routine nature of our meals. It reminded me of college, where I had a close group of friends that hung out in the dorm cafeteria most nights. Of course, our expensive meal on a private island overlooking a bay with a massive yacht had little else in common with those college nights, but the feeling was similar.
“You survived another long run with Pierce, I see?” Tristan commented.
“It was easier today,” I admitted. “I just needed to knock the rust off. Honestly, it feels good to get back into a routine. I used to run ten miles every morning in college. I’m almost sad to have to stop if—when—I get pregnant.”
“Plenty of women exercise during pregnancy,” Andrew said. “Typically, whatever you’re used to doing before getting pregnant is okay to do during the first two trimesters.”
“And even into the third,” Pierce added. “One of the executives at my battery manufacturer was jogging five miles a day right up until her water broke.”
“Lucy was a freak of nature,” Andrew said, shaking his head. “Very type-A. She hated sitting still.”
“We’ll see how much my body wants to run when I’m carrying a baby around in my belly,” I said with a chuckle. “But I’m sure there are plenty of health benefits.”
Andrew smirked at me. “Pierce isn’t running for the health benefits.”
“Indeed he is not,” Tristan muttered while pouring himself more wine.
I turned to Pierce. “Why else would you run so much if not for health?”
“I’ve been training,” Pierce explained. “For The Coastal Challenge.”
“What’s that?”
“Something pointless,” Tristan said.
“And painful,” Andrew added. “Pierce is a glutton for punishment.”
“I like challenging myself,” Pierce said defensively.
“So what is The Coastal Challenge? A race?”
“It’s a running race through Costa Rica,” Pierce said.
“Oh, fun!” I said. “I used to go out and watch the marathon in my college town every year and cheer on the runners. I’ll gladly cheer you on when you do this.”
Tristan and Andrew looked at each other and shook their heads.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s not that kind of race,” Pierce explained. “It’s—”
“The dumb kind,” Andrew said with a laugh.
Pierce glared at him, then went on. “It’s a six-day stage race across Costa Rica, twenty to thirty miles a day. The route takes us through the jungle, over mountains, and across uninhabited beaches on the Pacific side. There’s about thirty thousand feet of climbing over the course of the race.”
“He is omitting the best part,” Tristan said, gesturing with his wine and smirking. “They camp at night. In the middle of the jungle, without air conditioning or any other amenities.”
“They camp in tents,” Andrew said. “On the ground. Like we used to do in the Boy Scouts.”
Pierce rolled his eyes and sipped his wine.
“Let me get this straight,” I said slowly. “You basically run a marathon every day in sweltering heat and humidity. By the time you’re done, you’ve basically climbed a full Everest. And at the end of each day, you don’t even get to relax because you’re camping in a tent?”
