“He had me running up and down the steps of Harvard Stadium. He called it the “Stairway to Heaven.”“Time for a rest,” I said.“Nope. Keep going. Body relaxed. Swing those arms all the way back, right up to your shoulders.”“I’m dying here. My muscles feel like they’re on fire.”“Lactic acid. Outstanding.”“Isn’t that bad?”“Keep moving.”“You’re not even winded.”“It takes a lot to get me winded.”“All right,” I said, “you win. I surrender. I confess.”“Two more.”When we were done, he made us fast-walk a...long the banks of the Charles River as a way to cool down. I thought a Starbucks Frappuccino would work better.“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” I said, still gasping.“Pain is just weakness leaving the body,” Kurt said, punching me lightly on the shoulder. “So you guys had an ugly incident up there yesterday, I hear. Someone took a swing, huh?”“Horrible,” I said, shaking my head, panting.“Scanlon told me he used a wire or something.”“Yeah.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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