He asked, “How did you find the massage, Mick?”I could only come up with the briefest reply. “It felt great, thanks.”I continued to just stand there, not looking down at myself. I didn’t even know how strong my erection was.Peter seemed extremely pleased with the demonstration. With everyone still assembled around the main table, he announced that we’d now split up into groups of three, and practice what we had learned, trying to copy the demonstration. He introduced me to two guys who he said were in my group. One was old, and extremely hairy, which I found very unattractive. The other was just old. Neither was in great shape. I had no interest in proceeding, and protested. “But surely I’m excused. I couldn’t see the techniques to give a massage, and I’ve already had my massage.”He said, “No. You need to learn the techniques by copying your partner, and you’re needed for their group of three.”Sigh. I did as I was told, and the remains of my erection quickly dissipated. Hairy Guy was. I decided I hated running. Yet somehow all the health and conditioning arguments won out. They were aided, perhaps, by the faint hope that I would see her again.By the time I approached her walk the fact that I had never run three days in a row had become painfully evident. I was dragging, hands on hips, out of breath, feet and back in pain.This evening I was not sure I wanted her by the window. I was not in the most flattering condition. She was there of course.When she saw me she gave me a small smile and a shake of the head as if to say, “you are nuts”. She left the window before I could nod in agreement.My body was telling me she was right. But my heart had a second picture of her and knew I would continue. Her smile could light up the sky. She was beautiful.Running past her window became the highlight of my day. I ran everyday. She was accomplishing more than any amount of will power or trainer could have. I began to make physical progress. Running became easier.I had done some.
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