Ring - 4. Chapter 4

Saturday rolls around, and without Alex this weekend, I decide to take Jon up on his offer for the running clinic. It’s been years since I’ve done something like this, and honestly, getting some feedback on my form might not be a bad idea.

I hop into my car and drive over to Jon’s office. A few cars are already parked out front, and as I step out and head toward the entrance, I catch a glimpse of a couple of people chatting inside. I push open the door and step in, taking in the clean, professional atmosphere.

“Jim!” Jon calls out, spotting me right away. He’s standing near the front of the room, clipboard in hand, dressed in running gear that looks like it was made for him. His grin is wide and welcoming. “Glad you could make it! It’s a smaller group this week, so I’ll have time for more one-on-one. And hey, stick around after everyone leaves—I want to go over your form from the other day.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I reply with a smirk. “Showing up with my old-man vibe, but hey, a freebie is a freebie, right?”

Jon laughs, shaking his head. “Old man? Come on, Jim, you don’t look that old. Honestly, if I didn’t know about your kids, I’d have guessed early 30s—no dad bod, and looking pretty good, if I do say so.”

I blink, caught off guard by the compliment. “Well, thanks. I’ll take that.”

Jon doesn’t miss a beat. “Anyway, grab a chair. We’re about to get started.”

As I find a seat, I can’t help but shake my head, amused. Kids today have no filter, I think. Definitely wasn’t like that when I was his age. You were careful with what you said. And looking 30? Sure, I’m in decent shape, but come on.

Jon steps to the front of the group, his energy and confidence filling the room. He looks completely in his element, clipboard in hand, running gear pristine but practical. His enthusiasm is infectious as he glances around at the participants, making everyone feel at ease.

“Hey, everyone! First, I just want to thank you all for coming out today. Whether you’re a seasoned runner, someone just getting started, or even someone who thinks they’re here for moral support, this clinic is for you.” He pauses, scanning the group. His eyes linger on me for just a second longer than the others.

“My name’s Jon. I’m a physiotherapist by day, a running coach on the weekends, along with a boxing instructor and, well… basically, I love running, and fitness. I started this clinic because I’ve seen too many people get sidelined by injuries or plateau in their training just because they didn’t know a few basic techniques. Running should be fun, not painful, and definitely not boring.”

“We’re going to go over a few things today, then I’ll take questions and we can spend 10-15 minutes looking at your form. I’ve got a couple of treadmills that you can run on.”

Jon pulls out his clipboard and gestures to it with a grin. “Here’s the game plan. Today, we’re going to cover five key areas that’ll help you become a better, safer, and more efficient runner. Stick with me, and I promise you’ll walk away with something useful… pun intended.”

That got a laugh from the people in attendance. Jon continued on, talking about the areas he was going to speak about during the clinic.

“I’ll go over a few things—posture and body alignment, proper foot strike, cadence and stride length, breathing techniques, and, of course, the big one: injury prevention and recovery,” Jon says, pausing for effect. “We’ll focus on that because, honestly, I don’t want to see you back here. Physio is expensive, and I’d rather see you at a running clinic than as one of my patients.” The room laughs, the tension easing with the humor.

Jon sets the clipboard down and looks at the group, his voice taking on an even more encouraging tone. “Now, I know some of this might feel abstract, and that’s why I want to make it personal. After we go over the basics, I’ll spend 10 to 15 minutes with each of you on the treadmill. We’ll assess your form, talk about what’s working, and figure out what adjustments, if any, could help you improve.”

He gestures to the treadmill in the corner. “If you’re up for it, it’s a great way to get hands-on feedback. I’ll be giving tips as you run—nothing too intense, I promise. And if you’d rather not, that’s fine too. The goal here is to make sure you leave with advice that works for you.”

“As I go through these points,feel free to stop me to ask questions. I like to make things interactive, rather than me just talking.”

I feel a mix of nervousness and curiosity as I listen to Jonas. His confidence is clear, his passion for what he’s doing infectious. Every word he says seems to command attention, and I can’t help but notice how naturally he leads the group, how much he genuinely cares about everyone’s progress.

When he mentions the individual treadmill sessions, my stomach flips a little. I like the idea of getting personal feedback, but the thought of being under Jonas’ direct observation makes my nerves tingle, and not in a bad way. It’s just… something new. Something I wasn’t expecting. But part of me feels excited, too. There’s a vulnerability to it, and I haven’t let anyone in that way in a long time.

Jonas jumps into the first topic: posture and alignment. He moves effortlessly through his demonstration, explaining everything with clear, simple analogies. The group responds well—laughing at the right moments, nodding in understanding. I’m quietly preparing for my turn on the treadmill, wondering what Jonas might say when the focus is entirely on me.

As he explains, I try to focus, listening to how he’s breaking everything down so clearly. “Okay, imagine there’s a string pulling you upward from the top of your head,” Jonas says, standing tall with his arms reaching toward the ceiling. “That keeps your posture upright and your chest open. Your shoulders? Relax them. Don’t clench. You’re not fighting your run; you’re flowing with it.”

The group laughs as someone adds, “Easier said than done when you’re dying on mile five.”

Jonas laughs along with them. “True! But good posture will actually help you last longer. Running with a hunched back is like driving with your parking brake on—eventually, something’s going to burn out.”

I watch Jonas, impressed with how he guides a participant through their posture. There’s a calm, confident patience to him. He makes everything seem easy, even though I know it’s not.

When we move on to foot strike, someone raises their hand. “I always feel like I’m pounding the ground when I run. Is that bad?”

Jonas steps forward with a smile. “Great question! The idea is to land softly, like a ninja sneaking up on someone. You want to aim for your midfoot and let your foot roll naturally.” He jogs in place, showing the technique, his feet landing softly beneath him. “See? No thuds. You should barely hear your steps.”

Another participant asks, “Does that mean no heel striking at all?”

Jonas nods. “Exactly. Heel striking acts like a brake, and over time, it can lead to injuries—shin splints, knee pain, you name it. If you’re a heel striker, shortening your stride can help you land midfoot.”

I listen closely, already familiar with most of this, but still, something about the way he explains it so clearly makes me pay attention. His calm voice, his way of breaking things down—there’s a confidence about him that’s magnetic.

As Jonas moves on to cadence, I try to focus, but my mind keeps drifting. It’s a solid clinic. He’s covering all the basics, and his enthusiasm is contagious. The whole group seems engaged, asking questions, making notes, and I’m just... watching, absorbing.

When Jonas reaches the section on injury prevention, he demonstrates a few stretches and strength exercises. The room is alive with energy, everyone eager to learn more. “Remember,” Jonas says with a grin as he finishes a stretch, “running is about balance. Train smart, recover smart, and listen to your body. And if something doesn’t feel right—come see me!” He adds a playful wink, and the group laughs.

As the session winds down, some people stick around to ask questions, while others head out. I stay back, sitting in my chair, watching Jonas interact with the remaining participants. There’s a quiet tension in my chest. Why am I nervous? This is just a clinic. Nothing more.

Jonas finishes with the person he was speaking to, giving them a quick clap on the back as they leave. He looks over at me, nodding. “Hey, Jim, hang tight for a minute. I’ll go over some questions with this guy, then it’s your turn. We’ll hit the treadmill and see what you’ve got.”

I nod, my hands still resting across my lap. As I watch him speak to the last participant, I can feel my heart rate pick up. This wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, but for some reason, I can’t shake the feeling that it is.

Jonas finishes up with the last person, turns to me, and his grin returns. "Alright, Jim. You’re up."

My stomach flutters, but I am able to compose myself and reply to Jon, “Yeah, sure. Let’s do it.”

I get up off the chair, and step onto the treadmill and set it to a comfortable pace. As the belt starts moving, it feels familiar—years of long-distance training kicking back in, muscle memory doing the work. I settle into my stride, focusing on my breathing, the rhythm of my steps steady and smooth. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Jon watching me, clipboard in hand, making notes. His focus is intense, and I can’t help but wonder what’s going through his head.

After about five minutes, I slow to a stop and step off, wiping the sweat from my forehead with a towel that Jon has placed on the treadmill.

“Jim—that was great,” Jon says, setting his clipboard aside.

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Thanks.”

“So, two things,” Jon begins, leaning casually against the treadmill. “First, the other day when I was, uh… running behind you—excellent form, by the way—I couldn’t spot any issues. And now, watching you on the treadmill… is there something you’re not telling me?”

I laugh, a little self-conscious. “Well, sort of. I actually used to be a long-distance runner back in university. Not the jock type or anything, but running’s always been my thing.”

Jon snaps his fingers, grinning. “I knew it! Seriously, you should be up here teaching.”

“Me?” I shake my head. “No way. I don’t have the patience for that.”

“Think about it,” Jon says, crossing his arms. “It’s all adults, and honestly, nobody comes in cocky or arrogant. People are here to learn.”

I pause, considering it. “Maybe. It’d be nice to have a reason to get out of the house more.”

“Exactly,” Jon says, clapping his hands together. “Good. Hey, what are you up to today? Do you need to pick up Alex?”

“No, I don’t have him this week.”

“Perfect. How about lunch?”

I glance at him, surprised by the invitation but not unhappy about it. “Yeah, sure. That sounds good. What are you in the mood for?”

Jon’s face lights up. “Anything, really, but if you’re up for something different, there’s this vegetarian and vegan spot about twenty minutes from here. You’d swear you were eating meat. The place is called Meet. You game?”

I smirk. “Interesting, but yeah, sounds good.”

“Cool. Hey, do you mind driving? I could meet you there, but since we’re leaving at the same time, I figured—save the environment and all that. Yo don’t mind dropping me back here, do you?”

I laugh, trying to keep it casual. “Sure, no problem.” The truth is, I didn’t mind at all. Having Jon with me, even just for the drive, felt good. There was something about being around him that made everything easier, lighter. Whether it was the way he talked or just the way he looked at me, it made the day feel... better.

Jon moves quickly to tidy up, stacking chairs and shutting off the lights. I watch him work, appreciating his easy efficiency.

“What an amazing day,” Jon says as we step outside, squinting into the afternoon sun. “You know, it’s crazy expensive living out here on the West Coast, but days like this make it worth it.”

I nod, glancing up at the clear blue sky. “Yeah, it’s not bad.”

We headed to my car. It’s nothing special—just a reliable little sedan that gets me from point A to B. Since I work from home, it doesn’t see much use, but today feels like a good day to stretch its legs.

We made our way to the restaurant, a cozy spot about a 20 minute drive. The quiet buzz of conversation and clinking silverware surrounded us as we sat at a small table by the window.

As we’re seated, the waiter places two glasses of water in front of us.

Jon takes a drink of water and glances over at me. “So, what’s it like working from home? I bet it has its perks, but it can’t be all fun and games, right?”

I chuckled, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah, it’s got its ups and downs. I love the flexibility, but sometimes it feels like I’m stuck in the same spot all day. No commute to break it up.” I paused, thinking about it. “I used to work in an office before the pandemic hit, and I miss the separation between work and home, you know?”

Jon nodded. “I can see that. I’m pretty used to the chaos of the clinic, but sometimes, it’s nice to have a quiet day to catch up on things without any distractions.”

I smiled. “Exactly. But I can’t imagine spending all day in the clinic, even if you love what you do. I guess working from home has turned me into a bit of a hermit.”

“Fair point,” Jon said, grinning. “I like the energy there, but it can definitely get overwhelming at times. Helps when you’ve got a team that makes it fun, though. And, of course, the clients who appreciate the work we do.”

As our food arrived, I couldn’t help but feel comfortable around him. The conversation flowed easily, and it felt like we were reconnecting after our first meeting, both of us settling into this newfound camaraderie.

“So,” Jon asked, setting his fork down. “What’s your weekend looking like? Anything exciting?”

I hesitated, thinking for a moment. “This weekend, not too much. I’ll put in a few office hours, then relax a bit. Probably hit the gym or go for a run.” Then, I remembered Alex. “I’ve got Alex next weekend. We’re just going to hang out—maybe catch a movie or something,” I said, smiling. “He’s got swimming, and of course, he’s loving the boxing lessons. He’s been trying to get me to do some drills with him. I think he’s looking for a sparring partner.” I laughed lightly. “I’ll probably end up being his punching bag.”

Jon raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “Sounds like fun. I bet you’re a pro at taking hits by now.”

“More like a pro at dodging them,” I replied with a wink. “But I’ll let him have his fun. It’s nice to spend time with him, even if it’s just doing something simple.”

“That’s great,” Jon said with a nod, his tone softening. “Sounds like you’ve got a good balance with him. Family stuff is always important.”

“Yeah, it is. Especially with everything that’s happened in the past few years,” I said, my tone turning more reflective. “You know how it is, trying to make the most of the time you’ve got.”

Jon nodded thoughtfully. “Absolutely. I get that. It’s easy to let things slip by when you’re busy with everything else.”

“So, what about you?” I asked, curious. “What do you have planned for the rest of this weekend?”

Jon paused for a moment, considering. “Well, I’m still working on my application for that master’s program I mentioned. I’ve been going back and forth on it, still not sure if it’s the right move. It feels like such a big step, you know?” He shrugged, clearly conflicted. “But, I’ve got to make a decision sooner or later.”

I nodded, understanding the weight of that kind of decision. “Yeah, I get that.”

He leaned back slightly, his tone lightening. “Outside of that, I’ve been getting into cooking lately. I’ve been experimenting with new recipes, trying to improve my skills. Last night, I made this amazing homemade pasta with a rich bolognese sauce. Took me a few hours, but it was worth it.” He smiled, clearly proud. “I also picked up photography a while back. I’m not exactly a pro, but I love capturing the little moments—the way light hits something, or those odd details you normally wouldn’t notice. It’s a nice way to unwind after a long day.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Cooking and photography? Those are a bit unexpected.”

Jon chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I’m not one for sitting still. I find that trying out new things keeps my mind busy. And cooking? It’s kind of like therapy—especially when the food turns out right.”

Jon takes a sip of his drink, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “What about you, Jim? Single guy—do you cook?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Me? Nope. I can’t even boil water without making a mess. Cooking was always Cammie’s domain. She’d kick me out of the kitchen the second she started cooking. I couldn’t even skin a potato correctly!” I chuckle, but there’s a pang of guilt as I think about it. The memories of my life with Cammie—they’re still there, tucked away in the back of my mind. It’s hard not to feel that sharp ache when I talk about her. “So yeah, I mostly eat out. Easier than trying to cook for one person.”

Jon nods, a sympathetic look crossing his face before his usual grin returns. “Well, then it’s good that we’re friends. I can show you how to cook a few simple things. I love experimenting with fusion—Korean and pretty much any other cuisine. Sometimes it works, sometimes it turns into a huge mess.” He laughs, the sound easy and infectious.

We both fell into a comfortable silence, savoring the food and the easy rhythm of our conversation. The clinking of silverware and the soft hum of the restaurant around us created a kind of peaceful backdrop, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the simplicity of the moment.

As I finished the last bite, I glanced at my watch, and the weight of time hit me. I didn’t want to rush things, but I knew we couldn’t sit here forever.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Jon beat me to it.

“I’m sure you’ve got a busy weekend ahead,” Jon said, flashing me a smile as he placed his utensils down. “I don’t want to keep you.”

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I should probably get you back to the clinic. I don’t want to keep you from the rest of your weekend.”

Jon smiled, his eyes flicking toward the door, then back to me. “I suppose you’re right. We’ve had our fair share of good conversation. Can’t let you go thinking I’m some kind of professional conversationalist, you know?”

I chuckled, grabbing my wallet. “I wouldn’t be worried about that. This is only our third date, after all. We’re still getting to know each other.”

Jon’s grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Third? Feels more like the fourth, don’t you think? Either way, I think we’ve got a good rhythm going. Maybe we’ll need to schedule more ‘dates’ to really get it right.”

His tone was teasing, but I couldn’t help but notice the playful innuendo behind it. The idea of seeing him again—of something more—felt like it was there, hanging just beneath the surface. I smiled, but my pulse picked up slightly.

“I’m up for it,” I said, matching his playful tone. “Maybe next time I’ll let you cook for me. See if you can impress me with more than just your conversation skills.”

Jon raised an eyebrow, a sly smile curling at the corners of his lips. “Is that a challenge? Because I don’t back down from those easily.”

I drove Jon back to the clinic and said goodbye to him. Truth be told, as I pulled out of the parking lot, I couldn’t help but glance in my rearview mirror at him. I’m not sure what I was expecting to see—maybe a wave, or a look that said something more than a casual goodbye. But all I saw was him walking back into the building, his shoulders relaxed, like he was already moving on to whatever was next in his day.

I let out a quiet sigh, feeling a little foolish for lingering on it. Still, it had felt good—being around him, sharing that time. I couldn't deny the part of me that wanted more. But the uncertainty kept creeping in. What did this mean? Was I reading too much into it? Was it hormones? Or just the relief of being around another adult for once, someone who spoke at the same level as me but wasn’t a work colleague?

The weekend stretched ahead of me, empty in its quiet simplicity. I didn’t have Alex this weekend, and I wasn’t sure how to fill the space. Usually, I’d spend my time running—keeping in shape, making sure the gym didn’t feel like it was the only thing I was committed to. But running alone felt different. A few laps around the park might clear my head, but it didn’t really take the edge off.

I could always throw myself into work. The company always had projects to catch up on, things to improve, even on the weekends. So, that’s what I did. I spent the afternoon hunched over my laptop, checking emails, refining some reports, and answering some voicemails. It wasn’t the most glamorous way to spend a Saturday, but it was a way to keep my mind occupied, and it felt... productive. I told myself that was enough.

By evening, the work buzz had faded, and I realized I hadn’t had any real human interaction all day other than the clinic earlier, and lunch with Jon. That’s when I remembered the pub. A little treat for myself. I’d been going often in the evenings, always looking for Jon. He probably wouldn’t be there tonight, so no need to go out tonight.

I spent the rest of the weekend lounging around at home, watching the news and trying to catch up on a few shows I actually enjoyed. I wasn’t really doing much of anything, just filling the time. It was the kind of weekend where the hours slipped by without me even realizing it.

With the workweek ahead, I knew I’d be busy enough to get back into a rhythm. A few meetings, emails to catch up on, and the usual grind. It would be nice to have the distraction, to fill the space in my head with something other than my own thoughts.