Chapter 1. Now.

Push!

yells the virtual trainer's voice as it spills out of my headphones and into the center of my skull.

Push forward. Now. Go. One more mile. Feel your feet hit the pavement.

I try to concentrate on the rhythm of my stride. the repetition of my toe-heel strike against the concrete,

but my stomach gurgles with hunger instead. The eight-mile run to pick up the cake had seemed

like a good idea this morning, something that would make me feel better about the sugar the day

itself. I had pictured myself on the cab ride back, eyes closed in satisfaction,

hands carefully clutching the thing I had earned. But seven miles in, all I feel is empty,

and weak, like the center of me has been carved out with a spoon. I'm caving in on myself.

Come on, the virtual trainer shouts again.

One more mile now.

It's going to be so worth it.

I promise you, that's right.

Give me one deep breath through your nose.

I don't have to look at my phone to picture the trainer.

I know her well enough by now.

I can close my eyes and see her bouncing on the treadmill,

her two space buns perched carefully atop her head,

her forehead seeming to glow with effort instead of actual perspiration.

I imagine the giant fan that's probably just out of frame,

the one that keeps her cool enough to find the energy to keep yelling things like,

...