“Walking is so boring, though.”

“I know. Music, books on CD, they pass the time. Oh, do you know how to skate?”

“No, never learned.”

“Well, if you’re feeling adventurous, go to the rink and rent pads and blades and give it a try. It’s good aerobic exercise and does fantastic things for your butt. A variety of exercises, just like a variety of foods, is what your body needs. In the long run, having choices will keep you motivated and enthused.”

“You’ve given me so much to think about. Thank you. I feel a little overwhelmed, but really, this has been great,” Marissa said.

Her head spinning with too much new information, Marissa resisted the urge to go to the gym as she’d just been yesterday. It felt weird, fighting the urge to work out.

Instead she went shopping. Wandering in the department store she looked at expensive walking shoes and socks that must have had gold thread given the price tag. Perhaps she should treat herself to some gear. Did she want red shoes or blue ones? They would make a nice reward for starting a new program.

Oh no way, she told herself sternly. Giving yourself treats and rewards before you actually do anything is the wrong kind of training. She made a note about the red walking shoes. If she found the time and commitment to stick with Helena’s suggestions for three weeks, she’d get them then.

Instead, she marched over to the accessories and plunked down eight dollars for handheld weights, then set out on the Iron Horse Trail that ran along the back of their office building. Her ordinary gym shoes would be fine for now.

The first half-hour felt great. The second half-hour, to her surprise, took more effort than she had anticipated. Her hips hurt, her knees hurt, her shoulders hurt. So her gym workouts hadn’t improved her ability to do something as simple as walk for an hour. That was mind-boggling. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, she wanted to whine. She nipped the impulse in the bud and instead told herself firmly that it was proof she was unique. Dang it all.

She got home later than usual and missed one of her few favorite television programs. But I’m worth it, she told herself in the shower. I like myself more than TV, more than Oreos, more than a hot fudge sundae.

Her reflection wasn’t the woman who had frightened her in Tahiti. She wasn’t yet the woman she knew was inside her either. But there was a change, a definite change, one she wanted to pursue. One of these days she was going to look on the outside the way she felt on the inside.

The next morning she tucked the finished Finders Keepers questionnaire into her satchel. It was time.

Part Three

Chapter 12

Of all the ways that Marissa had imagined finally confronting Linda again, eyes stinging with sweat and smelling like a locker room was not one of them. Linda, of course, looked as if she’d just left a day spa, immaculate, relaxed and gorgeous. The hurt and pain Marissa had worked so hard to put away were immediately at the surface, combining in an inner cry of, “This is so not fair.”