|Thomas Julian Kemp (asterismos) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2013-05-08 05:56:00
|Entry tags:||lena rainmayr, thomas kemp|
WHO: Thomas, Lena, open to Jamie if you feel like it, Liz! But can stand alone!
WHAT: He is nicknamed after an awkward baby animal for a reason
WHEN: Backdated to Saturday morning
NOTES: Taking advantage of internet to get this out of my head
Despite trying to gain weight because stress was beginning to make him far too thin, Thomas hadn't stopped running on his treadmill. It was part of his morning routine and it always made him feel better. While he ran his mind went blank and all he focused on were his feet pounding against the track over and over again. He hadn't started using the treadmill to lose weight and he hadn't even really done so to get fit though that was a plus; it had always been about the peace. And if he ran inside, he was less likely to run into something or trip over an uneven path and break all the bones in his body.
While Lena slept, Thomas slipped out of bed and changed into his workout clothes. It was only just dawn and Thomas really loved the quiet. He pushed open all the windows, grabbed himself a bottle of water, and jumped onto the treadmill. With the push of a few buttons, he was off.
He found, as he ran, his mind was not blanking as easily as it usually did. He was worried about his father and his little sister who both were most likely going to die of Huntington's, his father sooner rather than later. He worried about himself too, even if lately he had been trying to ignore it with the idea that he could deal with it when it became an issue.
His feet pounded against the track and Thomas bit his lip and closed his eyes, just listening to the rhythm. His body might eventually betray him, but it was still under his control. He wanted to put one foot in front of the other and he could.
Suddenly, that was all that mattered.
He opened his eyes and grabbed ahold of the hand rest while using his other hand to turn up the speed. He went from jogging to running and then from running to sprinting while he held onto the hand rails for dear life. It didn't take long for his lungs to burn and his hear to pound but that wasn't the point. He was doing it. His body was still his.
Continuing to sprint for several minutes, Thomas began to feel weak and he was about to turn the speed down when his foot slipped. In a panic, Thomas let go of the hand rests and the tradmill shot him straight back into the wall. He let out a scream of terror and then there was a gigantic crash and then nothing but the sound of the track whirring at top speed.
And then, from his spot with his back against the wall, Thomas started laughing maniacally, even as he was out of breath.
Having heard the crash, Lena dashed into the living room where she found Thomas in a heap, laughing his ass off. "What- What in the hell?" she rushed over to him. "Thomas, what happened?"
"Fought back!" Thomas said, pointing at the treadmill with another laugh. Then he winced as his body protested the movement. "I think I'm in shock!"
"You're in something," Lena said, her voice wary. "You sounded like goddamn George of the Jungle. I'll get you some ice, okay? Unless you think something's broken?"
"Just my pride!" Thomas laughed as he shook his head. He managed to rise from the floor, using the wall as support. His entire body hurt, and he knew his muscles were not going to thank him later, but he could tell he was okay. He hadn't hit his head, thankfully. If he hadn't let go, he might not have been so lucky.
"You're insane," Lena informed him and she trotted off to grab some ice packs and some water. "Absolutely bloody insane. And I am selling your treadmill."
Thomas just snorted, but he didn't argue.