I even slicked back my hair for a serious athletic look. Then we got outside, I felt a small, pestering mist of a rainfall, and I knew the gel would loosen by the time we reached our destination. I’vedone what I can, smoothing it back down with my fingers, but my frizz cannot be stopped even at the best of times.
‘No one’s going to take me seriously,’ I say.
He does a quick scan of my face. ‘Of course they will – you look great.’
‘Noah, I’m in Converse.’
It’s enough to shut him up as we both take a moment of silence to look down at my inappropriate footwear.
‘Okay, you don’t look like arunner, per se, but you do look very cute! And this club is for all skill levels.’
I can’t help but snap at him. ‘You keep saying that, but no one else here looks like a beginner.’
They’re all laughing and stretching, smiles as bright as the annoyingly persistent 6 a.m. sun. It’s incredibly social, oddly so when you factor in the time.
‘Do all of these people know each other?’ I ask.
‘Nope, strangers. I recognise a couple of people from yesterday morning, but most are brand new...’ He looks around.
‘And they just... talk to each other like that?’ I feel my nose turning up.
He chuckles. ‘That will be you soon.’
I survey the crowd, an overwhelming dose of nerves flooding my body. My arms start to tingle with goosebumps again. I cross my arms and try to subtly warm them, but based on Noah’s prying eyes it isn’t subtle enough.
‘We could approach people together?’ he says. ‘Pick a person. I’ll make the first move and bring you in after.’
I’m fretting. ‘And leave me alone? No. What if someone comes up to me and starts yapping?’
‘Have you forgotten the reason you’re here or are you suddenly very into the running part?’ he asks, confused.
A klaxon sounds at the front and the scattered group of strangers rush to gather round the host as she spouts a fewpeppy words, first in Czech and then in English. Noah listens closely, nodding and laughing along, but I’m too busy searching for a target. I need someone smiley, approachable, enthusiastic, but not so enthusiastic that I’ll have to sprint. Someone who won’t mock my Converse and will happily drop to the back of the line.
The host ends with one definitive clap and suddenly the group springs to life, the sea of bodies hurtling forward atpace. I move with them, startled as my canvas-clad feet topple over each other clumsily in an attempt to keep up.
‘How you doing?’ Noah asks, dropping back at my side.
He’s doing his best to pretend this is his regular pace, but I can see him holding back. I’m not sure what he’s doing would even constitute as a jog. I open my mouth to answer and immediately clamp it shut. There’s nothing coming out but my hot, exasperated breaths. My lungs feel like raisins, my forehead’s clammy and my soles are already sore. I grab my phone and flash the time up. It’s been seven minutes.
‘I thought you said there’d be beginners,’ I say in stilted, breathless pants.
‘There are! See that girl in blue up front? Yeah – there. She said this is the first time she’severbeen on a run!’
I glance way, way up ahead and catch sight of her glossy auburn ponytail swinging jovially as she moves.
‘That girl leading the pack?’ I ask.
‘Crazy, right? She’s a natural,’ he says in awe.
I glance to his side and watch the way his eyes laser into her. His smile stretches widely as he does. I feel a twinge of envy rise up my throat.
‘If you’re so impressed, why don’t you go talk toher?’ I say, panting.
‘Am,’ he says, taken aback.
He slows his jog down some more, barely breaking his stride. Even as he walks, he keeps time with me effortlessly as I attempt to keep my pathetic excuse for a jog at pace. I catch a nearby runner clock it too and her attempt to hide her smirk after she sees me staring. If I didn’t look like an unfit loser before, I certainly do now. Especially compared to the girl in blue at the front.
‘What? I’m not the only one who needs to find someone and she is clearly more your speed. Go run up,’ I say, doubling down. I hear the snark in my voice as I speak, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Frankly he’s lucky I’m speaking at all. I should be preserving all my energy for the task at hand. ‘I don’t want to hold you back from the love of your life.’
