Just One Look
Copyright© 2025 by DB86
Chapter 23
The next Sunday morning came around way too fast. I woke up part excited—part dreading what I was about to do. I’d never imagined I’d attempt anything that involved five miles, but there I was—doing things I never thought I’d do, like eating a sensible breakfast and lacing up a pair of running shoes.
I trusted Derek’s training plan and Rachel’s unshakable belief in me. Still, just to be safe, I watered the plants and took one last look around my house. You know, in case I didn’t make it back.
Rachel and I met in front of the gym. She gave me a toe-curling kiss and said, “Whenever you’re ready to give up, think of this kiss.”
She slid an arm around my waist. I really liked the way that felt.
“One thing I know for sure is that I don’t want to give up. I want to do this, I want to prove myself that I can.”
She kissed me again and said, “I’m so proud of you.”
“Good luck, Pete,” Bella said, as she jogged past.
“You got this,” Derek added with a thumbs-up.
Rachel chuckled, grabbed my hand, and tugged me toward the starting line.
Marisa was there with her husband and three kids. She clapped me on the back.
“So, you’re going to run this ... marathon?”
“It’s not a marathon,” I said quickly.
“Whatever. See you on the other side, cousin. Good luck.”
“I’ll be the one walking into the light.”
She burst out laughing. “Not that other side!”
Everyone within earshot cracked up.
Rachel appeared beside me with a bottle of water and handed another one to me. She must’ve sensed my anxiety, because she stood close, almost protectively.
“You’re not going to die, Pete. I promise. I’ll be running with you. I know CPR. And no, you can’t fake unconsciousness just to get mouth-to-mouth.”
I pouted. “Spoilsport.”
“Are you ready for this?”
“Not even a little bit. And just so you know, I want ‘You can do it’ on my gravestone.”
Rachel smiled, full of mischief and something softer. “Pete, I know you are joking. But I also know that a part of you still doubt yourself. Trust me. You can do this.”
I’d lost twenty-five pounds in three months, but a small part of me still wasn’t sure if I was fit enough to jog the whole way without collapsing halfway through.
With my heart in my throat, we crossed the street and headed toward the starting line—and there was one more surprise waiting.
“Mom?” I blinked. I couldn’t believe it.
She stood there in a long, flowery dress, smiling nervously.
“You didn’t think I’d let you do this without me here to support you, did you?” she asked.
“Aww, Mom. Thank you.” It meant more than I could say.
She gave me a proud smile, then turned to Rachel, took her hands, and kissed both her cheeks. “Take good care of my son, dear.”
We stretched for a few minutes before the race began.
“Your mom’s a lovely lady,” Rachel said, grinning.
“That she is. Nurturing type. Family means everything to us.”
She looked down the path ahead. “Okay. We’ll jog—slow and steady—for two and a half miles until Heartbreak Hill.”
I groaned.
“You do that three times a week, Pete. And we’ll go at your pace.”
The mayor gave a short, heartfelt speech, and then the starting gun fired.
We were near the back of the pack, surrounded by hundreds of other runners.
“Come on,” Rachel said, with a smile. “Let’s do this.”
So, I did. I started the Middletown Run with the one person on Earth who could’ve convinced me it was even possible.
We were surrounded by a sea of people, pumped and energized. I was nervous, but also confident. I’d trained for this. And honestly? I was kind of proud of myself. I was fitter than I’d ever been in my life.
My body had changed. I was leaner, stronger, with actual muscle definition. My blood pressure was perfect, blood sugar levels were low, and cholesterol was in check. I was healthier than I’d ever been.
And happier, too.
Let me be clear: this happiness didn’t come from weight loss. It came from accepting myself—something Rachel had helped me understand. It came from setting goals and reaching them, even when I thought I couldn’t.
It came from looking in the mirror and liking the guy looking back.
I hadn’t realized how invisible I’d made myself. How much I’d wanted to disappear. I’d used humor as a shield to deflect pain before it could reach me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still funny. Let’s face it, I’m hilarious. But now, my jokes aren’t shields.
And the fact that Rachel fell in love with me when I was at my heaviest—and loved me still—proved what I’d known all along.
She was the one.
We weren’t trying to win. We weren’t trying to break records. We just wanted to finish.
Rachel cupped my face in her hands and kissed me.
“We got this.”
So, we jogged.
And jogged.
And jogged.
I doubted I’d run the whole thing, but the fact I was doing it at all? That was huge.
We jogged up Heartbreak Hill and made it to the top, clutching my side to fend off a cramp. Never in history has a hill been more accurately named.