Getting Harder [open]

[Kasey Łukaczyński]

Kasey felt old. Maybe it was the fact that she turned 26 over the summer. Maybe it was the fact that she was graduating in 3 months. Or maybe it was the fact that every day seemed a little bit harder to get up and move around. Even if she managed to get a good deal of walking in one day, she'd likely wake up stiff and weak-legged the next. While she used to be able to get from her sofa in her living room to the counter in her kitchen without assistance, she at the very least needed her crutches now. It felt like her Myopathy was coming on fast again, although the doctors said it was all in her head, and she needed to be more consistent about working out her legs. 

Never one to stray away from a challenge, Kasey made it a promise she would make it to the gym every day she didn't have Physical Therapy, and walk on the treadmill for as long as her poor legs could bear. Some of her friends from school asked why she kept up with it... she already had the wheel chair, the car with hand acceleration and breaks, a handicap accessible apartment, and more. Well it wasn't about all that to Kasey. It was her pride. It was the fact that she'd cried herself to sleep for many nights in a row while she was a teenager because she'd never walk at graduation, or down the isle at her wedding. Well, she'd already managed to hobble up on stage for two graduation ceremonies, and a third one was on its way. She wasn't going to let this thing get her before she could walk down the isle to the man of her dreams. 

Granted, there hadn't been much luck in that field... 

Currently Kasey was on the treadmill, most of her weight was on her arms, holding herself up on the side bars. The machine was moving impossibly slow - the slowest setting available, but it was very clear that it was a challenge for the blonde. Her hair was dripping with sweat beneath her ponytail, and her knees buckled and shook every time she putt too much weight on them. Anyone could see she was trying her best, but her best was certainly wearing her out. She shut off the machine, and reached over for the chair she pulled up next to it. Sitting for a moment, she took a long gulp of water from her water bottle, then leaned over to rest her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Things were certainly getting harder. 

[Rhea Hartman]

Dealt a much different genetic lot in life, while Kasey struggled on the treadmill, Rhea was doing squats. It was her favorite lift, and she always did them as one of the last parts of her workout. She loved the heavy exertion and the hypnotic repetition of the sets. Warm up, fifteen, weight up, ten, weight up, five, weight down, ten, weight down, fifteen, cool down. It was just her, Dave Brubeck, the simple counts, and the push and burning through her legs.

Rhea had tweaked her left knee during basketball a few days ago, so she wore her brace today. She was near the end of her workout and her knee felt fine, so she decided to go with her full squat set. She had done her five max presses and had just started her second set of ten. Her quads ached as she pushed for the fourth lift. She adjusted her left foot slightly, and she felt something give in her knee.

"Oh shit," she grunted, and the bar rolled down the back of her shoulders as she stumbled forward. It landed on the safety rungs with a crash that made the mirrors shake, bouncing on the metal cross-beams and almost losing a dumbbell before finally rolling to a clattering halt. Rhea landed hard on her hands and knees, and her left knee immediately seared with pain. "Shit," she repeated, snarled this time. "Shit shit shit." Her head still echoed from the bang. She rolled gingerly onto her backside, and the pain in her knee dulled slightly. Great. So much for going dancing tomorrow. Rhea spent a few moments breathing and cursing her overconfidence, then she set about to examining her knee with a sigh.

[Kasey Łukaczyński]

Kasey's eyes were fixated on the ground until a loud, skull shaking bang echoed through the gym. The blonde's head shot up to see the perpetrator fall forward, about twenty of thirty feet from where she sat. At first Kasey thought perhaps she just took on a little more than she could handle, despite her strong physique, but then Kasey saw a wry look on the woman's face that suggested a much different story.

Kasey grabbed her crutches and propped herself up, navigating between the grid of exercise equipment and over to where the woman was - now on her back. Kasey knew how awful it felt to be helped when you didn't want it, so she didn't immediately rush to the woman's side like many may instinctively do. Instead, the blonde stood, still a couple steps away, and asked "Are you ok?" with a look that was slightly sympathetic, but not meant to embarrass the woman in any way. "Do you need help?"

Kasey knew a little more than her fair share about physical injuries. Essentially growing up in a large physical therapy facility allowed the blonde to pick up on some tips and tricks that didn't even apply to her and her condition. And she was happy to help whoever needed it when she could. Kasey had adjusted her dad's back once when he threw it out on a family trip to Mexico. Sure, it wasn't professional or perfect, but it allowed the man to get through the vacation in relative comfort. But if the woman didn't want Kasey's help, the blonde would understand and be on her way.

[Rhea Hartman]

Rhea had just started the painful process of poking at her knee to figure out what had gone wrong when she heard the carefully casual inquiry. She looked up to see a slight, blonde woman on crutches standing a few steps away. She looked vaguely sympathetic and completely unqualified to help a gimp 200-pound weight lifter into the locker room.

She hesitated half a moment, but no one else came forward to offer their assistance. Typical, she sighed to herself, and smiled wryly at the young woman. "That would be great," she replied, turning back to her knee. She prodded the base of her medial ligament and felt another zing of pain. "My name's Rhea." She extended a hand upwards to the young woman.