Page 32 of Your Pace Or Mine

“Running in the winter?” My mom looks skeptical. “That sounds terrible.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I lie. Ashley and her friends said it was perfect running weather, but they’re obviously not of sound mind because it was freaking cold. My hands were freezing for ages afterward. Pleasantly crisp, my ass.

“Well done, Sebastian. It’s always good to keep active, not that you’re sedentary. Look at those muscles.” Mom puts her hand on my arm and acts impressed in the way only a mother can.

“Thanks, Mom.”

I look away from my sister as she tries to contain her laughter. “Well, I’m not running any time soon. Those people are crazy,” Penny asserts loudly. She’s more of the aerial yoga type. I’m not sure hanging from the ceiling getting tied up is any less crazy, unless it’s in a more intimate situation, which doesn’t sound terrible. One woman messaged me recently about her collection of silk ties and how she uses them. Though I’d like to never think about that and my sister at the same time ever again, so I focus back on my mother.

“I can’t wait to hear about your progress. Next thing you know, you’ll be doing one of those marathons,” my mom says.

Shit, have I somehow convinced my family that I’m an actual runner? Maybe I should text Ashley and ask if she minds me joining them tomorrow. But I don’t want to drag her down again—there’s no way I’ll be able to keep up for the whole distance.

The conversation shifts to my mom’s new hobbies, like paint night with her friend Wendy. I’m glad to see her trying new things—I worry she’ll get lonely without Curtis around.

“Let’s do a family paint night some time,” I suggest.

My mom pats me on the shoulder and gives me a quizzical look. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Why?”

“Coming over on a Friday night, going running all of a sudden, wanting to learn to paint. It’s not like you.”

“Maybe it’s his mid-life crisis,” Penny deadpans.

“I’m thirty-two!” Little sisters.

“Maybe on paper, but those years of wild living have caught up with you.”

She grins at me and I sigh dramatically, even though deep down, I enjoy letting her tease me. I don’t get this from anyone else, except Ashley.

“I’m fine, Mom. It’s just good to try new things. Maybe getting into my thirties has reminded me of what’s important.” I put my arm around her, laying it on a little thick perhaps, but I’m at least trying to direct the conversation before it turns into an intervention against my empty, loveless life.

My mom smiles and gets up. “Who wants dessert?”

The next morning, I wake up as it’s getting light and decide to run outside in my fancy new shoes. I snap a photo for Ashley during one of my walk breaks.

Ashley:

OMG Did you join our cult?

Why aren’t you up here running with us?

Didn’t want to slow you down.

Well, you’re welcome any time!

Thanks. Any plans tonight?

Ohhh, yes. I’ve been messaging this guy for a few weeks and we’re finally meeting up. By the sounds of things, it could be a fun night IYKWIM.

Oh, cool. Hope it’s a hot one!

Is that a strange thing to say? Is this when I should be sending an eggplant emoji or something? Back in the day, we were always open about our sex lives, but it somehow feels weird to be this invested in her getting some.

Let me know how it goes, or else I’ll see it on the Gram.

Oh dear God, did I just say “the Gram”? What’s up with me?