Spiral Bound Journal

Home Sweet Home?

One of the few saving graces of Dana's mandated time off was the chance to work out in a mostly empty gym. She would have preferred walking to said gym, but driving provided a little bit of a buffer between her and other people. This was a lesson learned the hard way thanks to a walk that should take 20 minutes becoming an hour-long slog. That ended up happening due to more than a few photo requests and having random drivers pull up next to her on Central Avenue to try to chat. At least the Wednesday regular knew her well enough to leave her along as she powered through another set of lunges.

After a few more reps, Dana decided to wrap up the weight training part of her workout. She'd struggled to get the courage to grab a bar from one of the Smith machines even though she knew she could lift it. That much had been proven in Paris. As Dana refreshed her workout app, she contemplated sneaking into the gyms that her friends from Team Norge used in between competitions. This had started as a chance for her to practice indoor action shots, but after a bit the guys started asking what else she could do. Once she deadlifted 30 kilos as a sort of test, she earned gym privileges the other photography competitors wouldn't even dream of wanting.

In spite of a longer than usual weight session, Dana took to the treadmill for sprints. Once she got the treadmill to jogging speed, she hopped onto the belt. She checked the time on the monitor and added a minute in her head. She had that minute to let her mind wander just a bit. From a physical standpoint, running was a breeze for Dana. Her mentality while running proved to be more of a challenge. Today was no different. At least with sprints her mind had to switch gears enough that she faced fewer chances of ending up in a spiral.

Since returning to Minneapolis, Dana found that straight running to improve endurance left her swimming in memories from Paris. Getting stuck in a loop of seeing and almost feeling herself give chest compressions slowed her down, and she could feel the fatigue kick in sooner compared to thinking about anything else. Thinking about increasing the treadmill speed for a minute of faster running could divert her from the more intrusive lines of thought, at least for a little bit. Once she was settled into a particular speed, she had to shift the mental gears yet again. As Dana made her third speed adjustment, she wondered not for the first time how runners could let their bodies go on autopilot so they could let their thoughts run free. For her, caging her thoughts during a workout sucked, but it was her only viable option if she wanted her training to be productive to any degree.

Dana managed five sets of sprinting before deciding to call it quits. She shifted the treadmill speed and began the cool down walk. It was at this point she bothered to look up at any of the TVs positioned on the wall where a few treadmills were stationed. Aside from the usual suspects of news and sports channels, there was a local daytime talk show. Somehow, all of them were talking about the fallout of the track and field collapse that catapulted Dana into the spotlight. The sports channels offered a brief update on the runner she saved. The news channels talked about the foreign policy implications of Dana's actions. The talk show featured a cardiologist that was discussing CPR training and how to differentiate between heart attacks and cardiac arrest. Dana quirked her eyebrows at the last one and decided not to question a show most known for vacuous social chatter stepping into an educational role. With a brief head shake, Dana stopped the treadmill before wandering into the gym's studio room. At least she could complete her post workout stretching without being subjected to the overabundance of analysis the media was throwing at this.

By the time Dana made it home, it was midafternoon. Quinn was still working in the home office, so Dana decided to rinse off the sweat and change before greeting her husband. She fished her phone out of her gym bag to recharge it. However, she stopped short when she saw a text alert.

Morgan: How are doing after everything? I know it's been stressful. Don't forget your Cortef.

Dana checked her watch. While she had upped her morning dose to ensure she had enough cortisol for her workout, she was a bit late on her second dose of the day. She strode to the bedroom and set her phone on the wireless charger before swiping a pill bottle from her nightstand. She shook out two pills and beelined for the kitchen. She filled a cup with just enough water to swallow her pills before heading for the office. She knocked twice before opening the door.

"Hey, there," she greeted Quinn.

"Hey," he replied. "Have a good workout?"

Dana nodded. I'm a bit late on my second dose of Cortef. I just took it, but there's a chance my timing might be worse than I thought. I'm going to take a shower. If you still hear the water running in twenty minutes, you'll probably want to check on me."

"Okay. I'll set a timer on my phone."

"That works."

With that, Dana left the office and headed for her bathroom. Why, oh why did being back home have to be this stressful? She hoped the interest over her actions would die down and die down in a hurry.