Finsbury Park Flame
"Running coach Zora trains marathon hopefuls in Finsbury Park, but when her newest client Jake can't keep pace, she takes him for private sessions that get his heart racing in different ways."
Jake finished last in every training run. Dead last.
"Yuh giving up?" Zora asked, thick and barely winded beside him.
"Never."
"Good answer." She nodded. "Private sessions. Early morning. Just us. We fix this."
5 AM in Finsbury Park. Just them and the pigeons.
"Running is rhythm," she explained, her thick body pacing him. "Find yuh beat. Match yuh breath."
"Hard to breathe with you this close."
"Then we work on that too."
Sessions blurred into something more. Her hands adjusting his posture. Her body demonstrating form. Her eyes watching him in ways coaches shouldn't.
"Yuh getting faster," she said week three.
"I have motivation."
"What motivation?"
"Trying to catch you."
"Maybe I let yuh catch mi."
He caught her after the morning run. Against a tree in a quiet corner of the park.
"This is inappropriate," she gasped.
"Very."
"We should stop."
"Should we?"
She answered by pulling him closer.
"Yes! Jake! Right there!"
Dawn through the trees, her thick body against oak bark, both of them burning.
"Don't stop! Keep that pace!"
He kept pace. Exceeded it. Finished strong.
Jake ran his first marathon. Not last place. Not even close.
Zora waited at the finish line.
"Yuh did it."
"We did it."
He kissed her in front of everyone. Cameras flashed.
"That's going to be news," she laughed.
"Good. Best news ever."
Finsbury Park Running Club has a new power couple.
She coaches. He inspires.
And every morning, they still train together.
Sometimes running.
Sometimes not.
Flame eternal.