Plankathon

The rule was simple: whoever could hold a plank the longest would be the winner. Out of the seven competitors who entered, only two were left, and to Marybeth’s utter astonishment, she was one of them. They had been planking for over a minute, and Marybeth had never planked before in her life.

She could feel the burn in her thighs and sweat dripping from her shins. Who knew that shins could sweat? Her elbows pressed into the mat, fingers intertwined, making her knuckles turn white. Her body was screaming at her to quit, but her mind yelled back, louder, determined to see this through; she needed the win.

After months of eating her feelings post-breakup, she’d come to the gym’s open day with a plan–a revenge glow up. She was a walking, or rather, planking, cliché.

At first, she’d entered the plankathon for the prize–a free membership for a year. But a minute and twenty seconds in, that was no longer important. What mattered more was outlasting the girl planking beside her. With her matching Lululemon crop top and leggings, her opponent was everything Marybeth was not: tanned, toned and curvy in all the right places. Exactly her ex’s type. Well, his type since the break-up anyway. Even though he had sworn to Marybeth that he was into the no-makeup, sweatpants, and messy bun look. Liar.

She felt her knees buckle. No, she ordered her body. For someone whose fitness routine rarely went beyond carrying groceries up a flight of stairs, this was asking a lot. But lucky for her, what she lacked in fitness, she made up for with willpower and sheer pig-headedness.

The instructor called out two minutes on the clock. Marybeth lifted her head to peek at Miss Lululemon, who hadn’t even broken a sweat. The girl looked so poised, like she took daily naps in that position.

Marybeth squeezed her eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain. It wasn’t working. She could hear the crowd cheering them on, while the music blared in the background. She tuned in to Sean Paul’s deep, gravelly voice telling her to “shake that thing,” and it gave her the boost of motivation she needed. She swayed her butt in time to the beat. It seemed to help take her mind off the burn.

She stole another glance at her opponent, who looked slightly less steady now. What reason could this girl possibly have for needing a free gym membership anyway? Couldn’t she see that Marybeth, in her faded leggings that had more than a few holes in them, needed this more?

“Two and a half minutes and counting, ladies,” the instructor’s voice boomed again.

She was done. Her legs felt like jello, but she refused to give in. No way was she going to let Miss Lululemon win this. Marybeth needed to prove to herself, to everyone, that she was stronger and better than–

She landed with a thud, face down on the mat. It was over. Her body had decided for her. She’d lost. She lay with her face buried, afraid that if she got up, she would burst into tears.

“It’s a tie!” someone announced.

People cheered and clapped around her. Someone patted her on the back. Confused, she pulled herself up slowly and got to her feet.

Apparently, they had broken their plank at exactly the same time, and the judges had decided to award them both the prize. But it didn’t feel like a true victory. If she had held out for even a second more, she wouldn’t have had to share the glory with her.

Feeling disheartened, Marybeth quickly completed the membership forms at the reception desk and made her way towards the exit. As she passed the gym-goers with their bulging biceps and post-workout glows, she shuddered self-consciously, imagining herself working out alongside them. Even the machines scared her–she had no idea how to use any of them.

Someone tapped her lightly on her shoulder, making her jump. She turned around to find Miss Lululemon herself smiling at her brightly.

“Hey, congratulations on the win! Two-and-a-half-minute plank, that’s impressive.” She had an accent that was hard to place.

“I’m Kim, by the way,” Kim held out her hand while Marybeth stared, speechless.

“I’m Marybeth,” she said, eventually finding her voice and shaking Kim’s hand. “And congratulations to you too,” she forced a smile that she hoped looked sincere.

“I’m glad we both won, now we can be workout buddies,” Kim said eagerly. Marybeth pressed her lips together to keep from laughing out loud at the absurd statement. “I’ve just moved here from Australia and I don’t know anyone.”

That was why Marybeth couldn’t place the accent. She’d never met an Australian before.

“Had a bad breakup and left everything back home for a fresh start. I needed to get as far away from him as possible, you know?” Kim confided, as if they were already best friends.

Marybeth felt a twinge of sympathy for her unofficial rival. It seemed like they had more in common than she cared to admit.

“Let’s exchange numbers, maybe we can catch that spin class tomorrow morning,” Kim said, her phone at the ready to type in the number.

This time, Marybeth couldn’t stop the sarcastic laugh that escaped her lips. She tried to make up for it by being honest and gave Kim a quick rundown, admitting that they were likely on very different fitness levels.

“That’s okay, we’ve all got to start somewhere. If you have time right now, how about we grab a coffee and swap stories about despicable exes?” Kim gave her a playful nudge, “I bet this time I win.”

Marybeth considered the proposition as she scanned the room full of sweaty bodies and intimidating stares. If she really was serious about the revenge glow-up, she could use a friend to help her navigate this very unfamiliar terrain.

It was the start of an unlikely friendship, and how Marybeth learned a valuable lesson: don’t judge a woman by her Lululemons.