(no subject)
Juno totally wished she had a bike. Not that it was that far from home to the compound or the beach, but she just kind of liked biking, and... okay, to be perfectly honest she had a weird sort of pudge in the former baby-hauling area. As if it weren't messed up enough that she had stretch marks at seventeen. Though both problems weren't nearly as bad as Bren after Liberty Bell made her entrance. There was apparently something to be said for the elasticity of youth.
Anyway, the point was, she figured she should get some kind of exercise, and if she had a bike she'd be doing that anyway. But now she actually had to make an effort, and exercise for the sake of exercise is incredibly sucky. She wasn't about to go all Jane Fonda in the rec room and she was convinced that there were sharks in the ocean if she went out far enough to really swim. Which left, thanks to a staggering lack of imagination, running. Which she pretty much loathed. She'd always thought Bleeker was out of his head.
She started out well, really. Found some gym shorts and everything. She even put on some of those stupid wrist warmers - which honestly just made her homesick for the first time in a while. She'd run out of orange tic-tacs, and there wasn't a hot pocket in sight. She just started on the path, jogging to the beach and back. An unconscious mantra started in her head, to the rhythm of her feet hitting the ground: I'm running in circles, I'm running in circles, this is so lame, this is so lame.
She was about halfway between the beach and the Compound when she finally just stopped in the middle of the path. She wasn't even that tired since she hadn't been running fast, but she was just bored. She sat down right there in the path, as if in protest. "This is for shiz the stupidest sport ever," she said. "I am so not a track and field enthusiast." She yanked off the wrist warmers and threw them over her head behind her.
Anyway, the point was, she figured she should get some kind of exercise, and if she had a bike she'd be doing that anyway. But now she actually had to make an effort, and exercise for the sake of exercise is incredibly sucky. She wasn't about to go all Jane Fonda in the rec room and she was convinced that there were sharks in the ocean if she went out far enough to really swim. Which left, thanks to a staggering lack of imagination, running. Which she pretty much loathed. She'd always thought Bleeker was out of his head.
She started out well, really. Found some gym shorts and everything. She even put on some of those stupid wrist warmers - which honestly just made her homesick for the first time in a while. She'd run out of orange tic-tacs, and there wasn't a hot pocket in sight. She just started on the path, jogging to the beach and back. An unconscious mantra started in her head, to the rhythm of her feet hitting the ground: I'm running in circles, I'm running in circles, this is so lame, this is so lame.
She was about halfway between the beach and the Compound when she finally just stopped in the middle of the path. She wasn't even that tired since she hadn't been running fast, but she was just bored. She sat down right there in the path, as if in protest. "This is for shiz the stupidest sport ever," she said. "I am so not a track and field enthusiast." She yanked off the wrist warmers and threw them over her head behind her.