I climbed onto the treadmill and wrapped my iPod armband tightly around my bicep, pushing my favorite playlist and pounding my feet into the machine. I’d gone through all of the songs once, letting me know I must have been running for at least 45 minutes, before I slowed down to a brisk walk. As soon as my steps slowed, though, my mind went back into action, my eyes flashing back to Dylan in that damned familiar shirt. Then I started to think about last night, and before reality set in, I pushed the up arrows on the treadmill and roared it back to a steady running pace.
My playlist went through once again, and I was panting heavily. My eyes were wide and focused on the window in front of me, and I barely registered the blurs of color passing through the reflection. People were here, in the gym with me. I pulled one ear bud from my ear, and I heard the clanking of weights and the smashing of racquetballs behind me. It must have been near lunchtime. “I should stop.”
I was about to attempt a walking speed again when things turned yellow—then black. The funny thing about exhaustion is you don’t really see it coming. There aren’t any warning signs, at least not when your head is as messed up as mine was. I remember my surroundings went bright, a golden yellow like I was suddenly thrust under a heat lamp. My balance was thrown, and I stepped to the side in an attempt to regain it. That’s when I felt the zip of my other foot whirl by my now stationary one and felt the smack of my face hitting the conveyer belt, my legs twisting and my vision suddenly fading to black.
I awoke to the sting of an ice pack on my forehead. I was laying flat on my back and the room was spinning above me, the air conditioning was making a whooshing sound over my eardrums.
“Hey you,” a voice was calling to me, but my eyes couldn’t yet focus. When I was finally able to make out the soft white towel being pressed to my face and recognized what it was, I let my vision focus on everything else. Suddenly Gavin was there. “Ah, there she is,” he said, his mouth forming a stretched smile, pushing dimples into each of his cheeks.
“Wha…happened?” I was still pretty woozy, and suddenly I felt like vomiting. I grabbed hard onto Gavin’s arm and pulled myself into a sitting position, slapping my other hand over my mouth and gesturing to him that I thought I might be sick.
“Oh, got it. Let’s get you somewhere. Here, hold onto me,” he lifted me to his side and supported my weight as he walked me from the circle of people who had gathered around us to the lobby of benches near the drinking fountain. The women’s locker room was really close, and I was pretty sure I needed to go in there. I looked over at the door. Gavin understood what I was saying and leaned against it, yelling inside to see if anyone was in there.
“Free and clear. Come on, let’s go,” he said, sliding over a maintenance sign so he could walk me into the ladies locker room. Once I got to the sink and splashed some water on my face, the nausea I was fighting against started to fade. I gripped the counter by the sink and turned my head up to take in my reflection. I was ghost white and my hair was drenched with sweat. I couldn’t tell if it was from the running or my fainting spell.
“Are you feeling okay?” Gavin asked, reaching over to steady me as he walked me back through the main door. A few women were waiting outside and gave him a skeptical look when he removed the maintenance sign and smiled at them as we walked by. I started to lose my balance a bit again and caught myself on the nearby bench.
“Okay, that’s it. You’re going to get checked out by someone,” Gavin said as he started to walk to the main front desk.
“No, I’m fine. Really. I just overdid it,” I tried to stop him.
He paused for a moment and pulled one side of his mouth up to consider what I was telling him. Then he shook his head no quickly and continued to the front desk where the girl working there ogled him as he leaned over the counter and pointed toward me. Her flirtatious smile soon faded into a frown as she looked at me. She got up and walked into the back offices and came out with one of the sports trainers and the three of them approached me.
“She was running and then I looked over and saw her completely go limp on the treadmill. She hit her head pretty hard, and she was out for several seconds,” Gavin explained to the man who was now kneeling in front of me with a medic box filled with gauze and ointments, none of which could do anything to solve what was wrong with me.
“Hmmmm,” the man considered for a moment. “Do you mind going into our back office and grabbing one of the big water bottles for me?” Gavin just nodded and jogged to the back rooms immediately. When he was gone, I just brought my pathetic and embarrassed gaze up to meet Mr. Trainer’s.