chapter 3

Amy threw back the curtains at 7am. She was already clad in her finest lycra running gear.

'It's your ten minute call Mister,' she announced loudly looking at her wristwatch, 'You're joining me on my morning run - remember?'.

'Urrrrgh,' came the moan from beneath the bed covers.

'C'mon sleepy head!' she protested, pulling commandingly at the bed covers as she desperately tried to catch a glimpse of her husband's 'starter' belly; the very image she had used in the couple's new power-shower earlier that morning to give her day the 'invigorating' start that she felt it needed.

'Spit-spot, spit-spot!' she nagged, clapping her hands like a strict nanny.

'Your feet won't run themselves now will they?'

'C'mon, c'mon. Rise and shine!'

*** ***

James's head emanated a dull, steady thump, like an unwelcome techno-beat on the street. The previous night's wine and beer now sought their revenge.

'Oh sh*t,' he panicked, remembering the pizza. He thought he'd be able to get up early enough to hide the empty box in the outdoor trash can before his wife could spot that he'd ate it all. She'd be mad, he was sure of that. Especially after her barbed comments about his weight earlier last night.

'Time to work off that pizza you ate,' said Amy, stretching her toned limbs expectantly at the bottom of their marital bed - almost as if she had read his mind.

'It's no wonder you've put on a few ...,' she added as she athletically gyrated her toned midriff, legs apart, before patting her own flat abdomen jokingly, '... eating like "that" '.

'Hell, you didn't seem to mind too much last night,' replied James defensively before sitting upright, stretching his arms and rubbing some life back into his bleary eyes.

'Well a woman has needs sometimes James,' replied Amy rather curtly.

'And now this woman needs to run. Just be outside in ten minutes'.

*** ***

James closed the front door behind him. The glare of the early morning sunshine did nothing to help his dull headache. He had had some difficulty fishing out his old running shoes from far beneath the bed, and also tying to find a suitable top to wear, given that he'd not joined his wife on her morning run for so long now. Amy quickly noticed how the material of her husband's top didn't fall as naturally as it once had. Its drop now interrupted by a small, but noticeable, gut that was slowly emerging. Amy loved it. James was finally putting on the 'wedding weight' that she always dreamed that he would. It indicated to her that he was becoming settled with her, long-term. Their relationship was for keeps - for both of them. But Amy wistfully began to imagine how James's top would look on him if he got even bigger, with 20-30 lbs more. She wished she could see that happen; even make it happen if she had to. She shook her head quickly to get rid of that pleasurable thought.

'C'mon then, we'll head for the park and run around the lake,' she announced.

'Think you can keep up?'

'Hell yes!' replied James, stretching. 'I think you've forgotten I used to be a wide receiver back at high school'.

'Well it's been a few years since then hasn't it?,' teased Amy, her back now turned to him, as she clicked a button on her wristwatch and began to jog away down the street.

*** ***

The couple reached the park which was two blocks away from their suburban home, and quickly got onto the path that encircled the lake.

'How you doing champ?' inquired Amy in between controlled, athletic breaths.

'Doing ...'

' ...'

'Great! ...,' replied James, doing his best to mask the fact that he was blowing hard already - his cheeks reddening and the sweat beginning to pour.

'Oh God, this is going to be painful,' he thought to himself, as he heard his heart thud loudly inside his chest at the shock of the unfamiliar exertion. He realised he was out of shape, and badly so. Only his pride had kept him going this far. If he had been on his own, he would have stopped for a breather long ago. He prayed Amy wouldn't pick up the pace. His lungs burned and the sweat was now beginning to sting his eyes.

'It usually takes eight minutes around the lake,' announced Amy as she ran, checking her watch, starting a split-time. 'You up for it?'

'Sure thing!' came James's fraudulent reply, his heart wanting to sink, which it would have had it not been thumping so damned fast. The lake looked huge. He plodded along determinedly, just hoping that it would get better.

*** ***

'You're doing really well,' said Amy encouragingly as the couple ran, now a few minutes into their journey around the lake.

'Of course,' replied James, slowly starting to believe his own hype with each and every stride. He started to feel good, the endorphins at long last masking some of his pain. And so in a surge of male bravado, he deliberately picked up the pace from a jog to a slow run; thinking he'd try and feed his wife some humble pie of her own. Sure, she was fit, but she'd be no match for his male strength - his natural endurance - the millions of years of evolution that had carved his male physique into a mean, lean fighting machine.

I'm the stronger sex, he thought, as he strode confidently, chest out, arms pumping, as his memory began to regale him with positive tales from his younger athletic days.

'See you at the finish line!' he barked confidently, as he laid down the gauntlet and sped away from Amy, his legs now running on adrenaline alone.

Amy giggled as she saw her husband try to leave her for dead. She let him go, for now. She'd seen it all before with her 'ex-athlete' male clients at the gym. The bravado, the bluster - she didn't buy it - not one bit. I was all a show, a complete testosterone filled ruse. He'd be eating her dust before long, that was for sure. There was no way he could outpace her carrying that big old belly up front. Amy chuckled as she watched James's plump a** wobble, an incentive to catch him up if ever she needed one.

And sure enough, after a hundred yards or so, James's pace began to slow as his newly accumulated pounds - like heavy passengers on his once slight frame - began to announce their presence more loudly with each and every stride. Amy slowly but surely began to reel him in, stride by stride, breath by controlled breath. And just before James had fallen back to be by her side, she deliberately picked up her own pace, kicking out her long, elegant legs to complete light-footed strides, barely a drop of sweat appearing upon her brow.

'Welcome back!' Amy announced brightly, as she sailed past James - his plodding steps now growing fainter. She smiled as she kicked her legs hard. God she loved to run. It was so effortless.

'Hey, ... ... Wait!!!' came James's cry, as Amy continued to focus on the sound of his footsteps disappearing into the distance. After a minute or two at full tilt Amy decided to chance a look backwards. She was glad that she did, because she caught a glimpse of James slowing to a standstill, then suddenly stopping before pathetically hunching over double - resting his hands on his knees as he fought to get air into his lungs. He then sat down on the grass, his lungs clearly fighting for air.

'Serves you right,' chuckled Amy to herself.

'... Wide receiver my a** !'

*** ***