it. He just withdraws at prayer times – quietly, humbly. It seems to give him solace and peace.
I understand prayer before dawn. When I do manage to get my lazy butt out of bed and pray, I get it.
But humanity is not meant to wake up before sunrise to exercise.
It’s Monday morning and I wake before dawn (I pray, seeing as I’m up anyway and I’d really appreciate God’s help with push-ups and jumping jacks) and then leave the house. I actually drive as the sun is rising on a MONDAY MORNING! It is not remotely transcendental or inspiring. The drive to the park where boot camp will be held is a struggle. The voice in my head does not relent:
Go back
, it whispers over and over again. I actually have to put the radio on full volume to drown it out.
When I arrive at the oval I get butterflies in my stomach. There are about forty people warming up and stretching on the basketball court. Some of them are huddled in groups, laughing and joking as though it were the middle of the day instead of the crack of dawn. I love exercise. But I’m not, and never will be, a morning person.
I catch sight of Ruby, who looks stunning in her hot-pink and black Nike Lycra outfit. She’s wearing make-up and her curly hair is pulled up in a complicated style more suited to a cocktail function. She’s the perfect example of somebody who has never exercised seriously in their life, labouring under the delusion that what you look like at the start of a session is what you’ll look like afterwards.
Ruby sees me and waves. ‘Esma! Over here!’ she cries.
I jog over, hoping her enthusiasm is infectious. She’s standing beside two girls, whom she introduces as Theresa and Pina. They’re both stretching and look almost as eager as Ruby.
‘Isn’t this great?’ Ruby exclaims and then leans in closer to me. ‘Did you see the guy over there with the blue hoodie?’ She closes her eyes for a moment and sighs. ‘To die for.’
‘Don’t go dying on me this morning,’ I threaten. ‘I wouldn’t trust myself to save my own mother, let alone you.’
Ruby flings an arm across my shoulders. ‘Well hello, Miss Grumpy!’
I manage a laugh. ‘I really hate exercising when even the birds are still asleep.’
‘You’ll get used to it,’ Theresa says as she raises her leg straight up, doing a vertical split. Ruby and I stare at her in awe.
‘Are you a dancer?’ I ask.
Theresa bursts out laughing. ‘I was a size eighteen three years ago.’
We are both momentarily deprived of speech.
‘Alex, the trainer, changed my life.’
‘Eight o’ clock, eight o’ clock,’ Ruby interrupts. ‘Stunner. Oh and five o’ clock. Perfect face. And ... wait ... yep! He’s not wearing a ring.’
Theresa and Pina grin.
‘How can you tell from so far away?’ I ask.
Ruby smiles slyly. ‘Practice. Plenty of practice.’
‘Well, don’t bother,’ Pina says. ‘He’s going out with the size-six hottie over there.’
Ruby frowns. ‘She’d better have a bad personality.’
‘She’s actually one of the nicest people we train with,’ Theresa says.
Ruby shakes her head. ‘You can’t have looks
and
personality.’ She pouts. ‘That’s so unfair.’
I glance around at the group, taking a closer look. There’s no doubt there are some good-looking guys here. So now I just need to figure out their religion, then their level of religious observance, moving on to education, career prospects, temperament, capacity to engage in quality conversation, ability to make me laugh, travel experience and, just for the fun of it, interest in commitment.
Alex rounds us all up and we gather around him in a semicircle. He’s lean, buff and, well, okay, has a perfect body. There’s a tattoo of a cross on his right arm and some elaborate calligraphy on his left.
He waits for silence. Some people jog on the spot, waiting for him to start. I join in, trying to warm up my muscles. I try to persuade Ruby to do it too, but she refuses. ‘Are you
I understand prayer before dawn. When I do manage to get my lazy butt out of bed and pray, I get it.
But humanity is not meant to wake up before sunrise to exercise.
It’s Monday morning and I wake before dawn (I pray, seeing as I’m up anyway and I’d really appreciate God’s help with push-ups and jumping jacks) and then leave the house. I actually drive as the sun is rising on a MONDAY MORNING! It is not remotely transcendental or inspiring. The drive to the park where boot camp will be held is a struggle. The voice in my head does not relent:
Go back
, it whispers over and over again. I actually have to put the radio on full volume to drown it out.
When I arrive at the oval I get butterflies in my stomach. There are about forty people warming up and stretching on the basketball court. Some of them are huddled in groups, laughing and joking as though it were the middle of the day instead of the crack of dawn. I love exercise. But I’m not, and never will be, a morning person.
I catch sight of Ruby, who looks stunning in her hot-pink and black Nike Lycra outfit. She’s wearing make-up and her curly hair is pulled up in a complicated style more suited to a cocktail function. She’s the perfect example of somebody who has never exercised seriously in their life, labouring under the delusion that what you look like at the start of a session is what you’ll look like afterwards.
Ruby sees me and waves. ‘Esma! Over here!’ she cries.
I jog over, hoping her enthusiasm is infectious. She’s standing beside two girls, whom she introduces as Theresa and Pina. They’re both stretching and look almost as eager as Ruby.
‘Isn’t this great?’ Ruby exclaims and then leans in closer to me. ‘Did you see the guy over there with the blue hoodie?’ She closes her eyes for a moment and sighs. ‘To die for.’
‘Don’t go dying on me this morning,’ I threaten. ‘I wouldn’t trust myself to save my own mother, let alone you.’
Ruby flings an arm across my shoulders. ‘Well hello, Miss Grumpy!’
I manage a laugh. ‘I really hate exercising when even the birds are still asleep.’
‘You’ll get used to it,’ Theresa says as she raises her leg straight up, doing a vertical split. Ruby and I stare at her in awe.
‘Are you a dancer?’ I ask.
Theresa bursts out laughing. ‘I was a size eighteen three years ago.’
We are both momentarily deprived of speech.
‘Alex, the trainer, changed my life.’
‘Eight o’ clock, eight o’ clock,’ Ruby interrupts. ‘Stunner. Oh and five o’ clock. Perfect face. And ... wait ... yep! He’s not wearing a ring.’
Theresa and Pina grin.
‘How can you tell from so far away?’ I ask.
Ruby smiles slyly. ‘Practice. Plenty of practice.’
‘Well, don’t bother,’ Pina says. ‘He’s going out with the size-six hottie over there.’
Ruby frowns. ‘She’d better have a bad personality.’
‘She’s actually one of the nicest people we train with,’ Theresa says.
Ruby shakes her head. ‘You can’t have looks
and
personality.’ She pouts. ‘That’s so unfair.’
I glance around at the group, taking a closer look. There’s no doubt there are some good-looking guys here. So now I just need to figure out their religion, then their level of religious observance, moving on to education, career prospects, temperament, capacity to engage in quality conversation, ability to make me laugh, travel experience and, just for the fun of it, interest in commitment.
Alex rounds us all up and we gather around him in a semicircle. He’s lean, buff and, well, okay, has a perfect body. There’s a tattoo of a cross on his right arm and some elaborate calligraphy on his left.
He waits for silence. Some people jog on the spot, waiting for him to start. I join in, trying to warm up my muscles. I try to persuade Ruby to do it too, but she refuses. ‘Are you
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