I was late coming to Barwis yesterday. I texted Phil that I was coming and he told me to let him know when I got there. I was a bit unsettled driving there and had already heard my WALKING SONG when I left work and began to cry a little. The night before, Phil texted me that his last day at Barwis was going to be the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. I immediately texted back, “What?!” He told me that we would talk about it tomorrow (on Monday). Jesse had left about 3 months into my training and now Phil?!
I pulled up to my normal spot and texted Phil that I was there and proceeded to get my chair down from the topper. Phil came out and startled me as I was doing this. He walked around my open door and asked me what was wrong. SERIOUSLY?! What could possibly be wrong with me today?! It’s not like my trainer who has been training me for over a year is leaving or anything! I just looked at him and quietly said, “Nothing.” He didn’t buy it but didn’t say anything further. He put me in my chair because it was so freezing cold outside. He pushed me right in to the middle of the turf and laughed when I turned my head and gasped when I saw that high schoolers were coming toward me. Phil pushed me to by the chairs to wait while he washed his hands. I watched the young athletes doing their drills when Phil came back and pushed me to the plyo boxes.
He adjusted the box at the end and asked something by means of starting some small talk. I looked at him hard and demanded, “What’s going on?!” He smiled and told me. I listened both intently and in dismay and disbelief. I responded hotly, “First Jesse, now you?! Just forget Jen and her walking!” He responded a bit softer, “You WILL walk…” I caught his eye as he said this and that did it for me. I pulled the neck of my hoodie over my head as I heard him finish, “just not with me.” Then I heard him say something like, “Don’t do that” or Enough of that” or “Don’t cry.” I wanted to say that I wasn’t and started to but my voice betrayed me and cracked. I was surprised as tears stung my eyes and my shoulders began to shake. I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes willing tears to stop streaming from them and for my sobs to remain silent. Phil called to Deeds to give me a hug and he came over. I moved in protest and pulled my hoodie down with my cheeks wet to about 10 kids in the highschool group staring at me. I wiped my eyes with my sleeves and asked Phil to either let my ankle go or get me tissue to blow my nose. He got me a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom and I was grateful. He continued to stretch me and we really didn’t say much more.
He took me out to my car and put his fist out as he stowed my chair. I put my fist out thinking that we would fist bump but he grabbed my fist instead as I extended it, shook it, and yelled, “Joystick!” He laughed as he shut my door and went inside. The radio was on as I drove home but I couldn’t tell you what songs were playing. As I got onto the freeway, the tears began again.