Centre Of Inertia

Stay Where You Are

The will to change was there. It was hidden in the bottom of the crisp packets her hand was always stuck in, in the crinkled foil lining of those ephemeral chocolates, a mere granule in the glorious cup of caffeinated sugar she relied upon. The will to change was there, but Janie couldn’t bring it to the surface. It remained at the bottom, the very bottom, of everything.

The curtain was open only a crack to let the evening light in, but it was enough. Enough to see the momentous swish of her neighbour's cinnamon ponytail. Janie moved the curtain over a little and saw the shiny mauve leggings and cropped black hoodie moving forwards in her street. Janie was filled with disappointment at the way she looked, and felt. She desperately wanted to be like her neighbour, emulate her glow. Janie reached back into the crisp packet, fingers greasy with inertia.

Janie left the house to buy more crisps.
Cinnamon jogged gently past her, this time a neat braid kissing the air either side. Something welled up inside of Janie. She turned around and went back inside the house, no crisps.

Janie choked down her sugarless coffee with great difficulty, however, the sense of accomplishment it left saw her wipe her memory instantly of the bitterness. Replaced with something that felt like hope, Janie threw on some old clothes and her only pair of trainers, deeply adorned with scuff marks. She likened it to how she felt inside, and therefore, it was perfect. Janie’s ponytail was curly brown and not the long, swishing kind, but it would have to do. She stepped outside. Fifteen seconds was enough, all she could manage. Janie was devastated. What was she thinking? But hang on, she realised, snapping out of it.
I can keep trying. I’ll just keeping trying.
So Janie ran another fifteen seconds, then walked for a while, then did another short burst before a long recovery walk. Without realising, Janie had done this all the way to the park. It wasn't much but it was more than she’d done in years. And even though her ponytail waddled rather than swished,
she felt good. Janie had taken action. She was the right side of sweaty.

Out of nowhere, Janie felt the unwavering desire to eat the biggest packet of crisps she could find. Alone and cold, the desire was a strong pull. She grabbed her keys and stepped outside.
-Hey, l've seen you running!
Janie swung around to face Cinnamon. You have?
Her neighbour smiled at her genuinely, introducing herself as Chloe. Was Chloe interested … in Janie?
-Why don't you come along to my running group?
Janie's insides twisted with a hopeful kind of fear.

***
Happy tears tickled Janie's hot cheeks as a marshal placed a finisher's medal around her neck. She looked out for her friend (affectionately called Cinnamon), who had finished well before her. Six months prior, Janie couldn’t run for thirty seconds. Her days consisted of eating all the food she could get her hands on, stuck in a darkened place that remained unchanged. That swishing ponytail changed Janie's life. It was a sign, a shift, a call to action. Janie was
a Janie she’d never been before. She could see her wings now, and so could everyone else. And on that gorgeous day, Janie knew she could achieve anything.