Chapter 24 Laney
Chapter twenty-four
Laney
Battle of the Voices in My Head
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
4:04 a.m.
“Miguel,” I groan as I pull a pillow over my head. “Why? Why so early every day?”
“It’s race day Laney baby! C’mon let’s get up and get after it.” He says as he sits up immediately, walks across the room, and silences the alarm.
“How? How is it possible you have so much energy in the morning?”
“I’ve trained myself to be a morning person. It wasn’t always this way.”
“No?” I yawn as I stretch while still cozy under the covers. “Tell me about that time then. When were you not a morning person?”
“In my twenties.” He says, subdued. I rapidly blink my eyes open and watch him for a moment.
Miguel’s normally straight shoulders are curled inward. Like he’s almost folding in on himself. What memories is he battling?
“Listen,” he says, talking more to the wall than to me.
“I don’t want to get into it now before your race.
You need to get in the right headspace. We’ll talk tonight.
Or if you don’t want to go into it because we’re celebrating your victory then we’ll find another time.
It’s in the past, and it should stay there if you ask me. ”
“Miguel…” I lead, hoping to soothe the pain evident in his voice.
“It’s fine Laney, I promise.” He finally turns to me and I can see the brave face he is attempting to put on. I can see how hard he’s trying to move past this, for me.
“Okay, what’s my prerace plan then, Coach.” I try to sound as normal as possible.
“Cold shower.” Miguel starts listing the plan out on his fingers.
“Woof.” Yeah, that’ll put me in a much better headspace. Not.
“Breakfast.” He lifts his second finger.
“Yay!”
“Stretching.” He lifts his third finger.
“Meh.”
“Get to the transition areas and check things are set up.”
“Important.”
“I want you to know exactly where your bike is racked. So we’re going to practice walking from the swim exit to your bike a few times. Then I’ll take you to the T2 area and we’ll practice getting into your running shoes.”
“And to do all that I needed to be awake at four in the morning?”
“Yes ma’am. Your heat starts at 6:45 a.m. to try and get everyone across the finish line before the heat of the day really kicks in.”
“I suppose that’s considerate of them.”
“C’mon, I’ll join you in the shower.”
“Okay, you go get it started and I’ll be in once it’s warmed up.” I say sleepily as I roll over pulling the fluffy hotel covers with me.
“Nope, nice try Princess.” Miguel whips the comforter off and my naked body is all that’s left on the bed. “Get that fine ass in the cold shower.”
“You’re mean.” I grumble as I stand and walk past him.
“You like it.” He whispers against my ear, causing shivers to race down my spine.
Unfortunately, he’s right.
Somehow my tri suit feels too loose and too tight at the same time. My lungs feel like they can’t get full enough and the fabric is gaping at my low back and no matter how much I tug on it I can’t get comfortable.
The grass is cold with the morning dew and my feet sort of itch in the damp and rough texture. I’m fucking freezing but also oppressed by the muggy midwestern break-of-dawn air.
The hundreds of athletes around me pack together tighter as we get closer to the start. I hear women mutter to themselves and wish good races to each other. But it all sounds muffled like I’m already underwater.
My stomach pinches as I inch closer to the shore for today’s swim.
If I don’t qualify today I’ll only have one more chance this season.
I have to do it today.
I couldn't even finish the Chicago race last year.
My shoulders tense with each brush of another athlete’s body against mine in the crowded space.
I wipe my goggles out, adjust my swimcap, and roll my shoulders.
I’ve positioned myself out wide to help me stay out of the chaos in the middle and to make the first turn easier.
It’ll be easy to start faster than I need to because I’m so amped up right now but I’ll need to settle into my pace.
Remember to breathe every three strokes.
The ramp leading down into the Eagle Creek Reservoir, where we’re swimming today, comes into view a few rows of swimmers ahead of me and my lungs seize up.
I’m not ready.
Miguel’s voice fills my head and I hear him say “you are.”
But, if I don’t qualify today it all comes down to Chicago and I couldn’t finish Chicago last year.
Miguel’s voice says, “you finished in Chattanooga a few weeks ago.”
Yeah but I wasn’t fast enough.
“You finished the race, in your socks.”
Fine.
A slight smile dances across my lips as a heat engulfs my core as I mentally ask Miguel if he would let me orgasm if I complimented myself right now.
I didn’t know what he was doing last night, I was captivated by the sensations coursing through my body. But as my toes hit the ramp and I prepare to dive into the water and start my race, I feel ready.
I feel strong.
I feel prepared.
I feel supported by a man who makes me believe in myself.
And the last thought I have before jumping into the water is how deliciously Miguel will praise me when I not only finish today but qualify for Worlds.