Long time coming
by bye
A merciless ex proves to have grown more than I could handle


To say that Tracey was a girl that I dated when I was younger would be true
but still an understatement. The two of us met in school as her younger sister
was dating my best friend and quickly she became my first true love. Very,
very pretty, she was the goalkeeper on the women's soccer team, probably a
stocky 5'4 to my 5'10. While she wasn't in the least bit chubby, I can still
remember the day after introducing her to my father when he said that one day
she had nice, round breasts, but would 'have a fat ass'.

Our relationship was, to say the least, heated. At first it was heated in a
good way, as we couldn't ever keep our hands off of each other, but as things
progressed it became nasty. Mistrust reigned and it blew up in each of our
faces. But what can one expect when you're 19 years old?

As the years went by I graduated, moved away and had been in a few similar
on-again, off-again relationships. One day while chatting with a woman I work
with she spoke of how an old boyfriend of hers emailed her out of the blue and
after some back and forth he had apologized for the way he had treated her so
many years ago. After some thought I came to the conclusion that the way
things had ended between me and a few women - Tracey included - could use a
revisiting and a clearing of air. So after a bit of research and
soul-searching, I came up with a number of addresses of ex's and sent out some
preliminary emails.

One after another, emails came pouring back, most of them bland and going
nowhere. But still no sign of Tracey. Until one day I stepped into my office
and there was a reply ...

Hi Ted,

Been really busy, sorry I didn't reply earlier. Nice to hear from you though.
Hope things are well.

Tracey

That was it. I replied, apologizing for what transpired 10 years ago to which
she said I had nothing to worry about. A couple of more messages passed before
she asked what I was up to and I mentioned that I had moved to Toronto and
taken a job in the government. It was a shock to read her next message ...

You're in the city? I've been here for 4 years. We should meet up for a
coffee. I work a lot but there's a place close to my office in the mall.

Trace

Needless to say, I wasn't expecting this response. But things seemed cool and,
seeing how it would be neat to catch up after nearly 10 years, I set a time to
which she quickly agreed.

The day we were to meet I was, not surprisingly, a bit nervous. I thought that
I had gotten over everything so I chalked my nerves up to excitement, arrived
at the coffee shop 5 minutes early and grabbed a table in the corner. So many
questions were racing through my mind - what she had been up to, why she
moved, hell ... what she looked like. And I waited and waited.

She was 5 minutes late. 10. 15 minutes before a woman with shoulder length
brownish-red curly hair and spring in her step, entered into the shop. Dressed
in a track pants and a hooded sweatshirt, she quickly she stopped at the door
and scanned the room. And when her green eyes met mine I immediately turned 19
again. Tracey.

She smiled and bounced over to my table. 29 years old I thought and she still
looked like a teenager. At least I thought she did. I hadn't seen her in so
long I couldn't really tell. But one thing I noticed the closer she got. The
Tracey I remembered was a pale-skinned girl and this Tracey was very tan. But
it was more than that. She had that same killer smile and cute button nose but
now there was a glow to her that was more than just the tan. There was an
energy that was bouncing off of her. She was extremely confident and energetic
and without so much as a hug or a handshake, quickly spoke as I stood,

"Sorry I'm late but a client ran overtime. Have you ordered anything yet?"

"No" I stammered

"Let me buy, seeing how I'm late,"she decreed as she turned quickly away from
me and towards the counter.

"Hi Tracey," said the beaming coffee clerk. " Regular?"

"Yes please. And Ted?"

I asked for a dark roasted coffee, and as the two drinks were brought to the
cash, Tracey pulled what looked like a tremendous wad of cash from her fanny
pack, paid for the two drinks and asked, "So how have you been?"

"Good. Really good. Things at work have been busy, I just moved into a new
place. Everything's good. And yourself?"

I moved towards the sugar as Tracey started into her answer with a sigh, "Just
too busy. I'm at the gym close to 10 hours a day now and I don't seem to have
much time for even coffee with old friends."

"Gym?"I countered, as I prepared my coffee.

"I'm a personal trainer, so between my own workouts and my clients, I'm there
almost half the day sometimes. And you shouldn't use sugar. It's bad for you."

I looked down at her as she smiled. She was joking but she wasn't and her
teeth, which must had been cleaned recently and contrasting with her tan,
almost blinded me.

"Personal trainer? You?"I was shocked.

"Going on 8 years now. Why? You seem surprised."

"8 years. Jesus. I haven't been in a gym in nearly that long."

"What? You used to be in decent shape. Not so much anymore, but it's not too
late."

I stopped with the sugar and replied with a slight laugh. "Not anymore? I'm in
decent shape still. I play softball twice a week and still run now and then."

"Softball. Whatever."

She was insulting me. I couldn't believe it but I still tried to hold my own.

"I may not be a 'personal trainer'but I'm still ok,"I snapped back.

She slowly looked me up and down, then said. "You're right. You're definitely
not a personal trainer. No big deal."

Finally the conversation was dropped. And the two of us returned to the table
and began to catch up. While we didn't go into exact details, her folks had
split up, she had moved up with her sister, met a guy and had moved in with
him after her sister left the city but it had ended badly. In fact she said,
they all seemed to end badly. Afterwards she caught onto a few more clients
personal training on the side and then it turned into a huge business for her.
She in fact was charging over $100/hr to some clients. I couldn't believe it!
I added it up in my head. 10 hours!?! $100 bucks an hour. She could be pulling
in, on some days, a thousand bucks a day. I had to ask. "How much do make on a
day?"

"An average day? 400. But don't worry. Because we're old friends I'll only
charge you 20 an hour."

I laughed so hard I nearly spit my coffee onto her. But she didn't flinch.
"Look, you could use it. Why not? How about this ... I' ll train you for two
weeks for free. After those 2 weeks, if you want to keep making progress, then
we'll start at 20."

Thanks but no thanks I said to which she shrugged, "I don't really care, I
make more than enough. I was just thinking of making you a bit healthier."

And with that, we went back to chatting and drinking our coffees and, despite
my original worries, we got along pretty great. We went over old times, old
friends and found what we had in common that I was afraid we lost all those
years agoAnd then we left. But not before a quick, polite hug that was more a
mutual pat on the back. But as I patted her, I couldn't help but think about
how solid she felt. She was like oak. Now, she had always been stocky but this
wasn't a thick girl. This was a THICK girl. After the normal pleasantries, we
went our separate ways and that was that. However as I went home, thinking
somewhat about old memories, I still couldn't shake that 'hug'and the sound my
hand made when it hit her wide back. It wasn't a slap, more of a heavy thud.
It was a sound that rang in my ears my whole way home.

A couple of weeks passed without so much as another email between the two of
us but one day, after moving some furniture around my house, I realized how
out of breath I was. And thought that maybe it was time to get back to a gym.
So I emailed Tracey. He response:

Ted,

Coming to your senses, huh? You give me 2 weeks? I'll take it easy on you,
don't worry. Meet me at the coffee place tomorrow. 5:45 pm.

T.

Tomorrow I thought? I wasn't ready for tomorrow. But knowing Tracey there was
no backing down. So I went. And again sat in the same chair waiting for her as
she was, once again, late arriving.

"15 minutes late again,"I said as she bounced in.

"Don't push your luck buddy,"she teased. " Normally those 15 minutes would
have cost you 25 bucks."She smiled to one of the baristas then, with a wicked
grin, curled her index finger seductively towards her to tell me to follow her
into the gym.

As we entered the massive complex, I followed her in her zipped up tracksuit
into the massive complex like a little, lost puppy with a gym bag in his
mouth.

"You can get changed in there,"and as she pointed to the men's change room, I
happily obliged.

In the room, I quickly grabbed a locker in a corner that seemed alone and got
changed. But no sooner than I had gotten my shirt off than in strutted one of
the biggest guys I had ever seen. In a muscle shirt, cut and tan, he stood
over 6 and weighed at least 250. And was coming to the locker next to mine. I
couldn't help but look at him and then down at my comparatively puny frame
before quickly swapping pants for shorts and heading out.

As I exited the change room I noticed however that this beast was following me
out, as he only went into his locker for a second. I held the door for him
without any thanks in return and tried to find Tracey in the maze of
equipment. As the hulk went passed by my right, I looked left but to no avail.
As I looked right, I saw her. Leaning against the wall. Beginning a
conversation with the hulk.

I dared not get between the two as they chatted. And chatted. And chatted.
Until, after about 4 or 5 minutes, Tracey noticed me out of the corner of her
eye and stopped the conversation with the beast by saying to me, " Ted, get
over here."

Sheepishly I stepped over. "Ted," Tracey started, "this is Paul. Paul, this is
Ted. He's a new client of mine."

Paul looked me up and down once again. "I can tell."

"Paul ... "she chided him.

"We're in the change room together"is all he could grunt as an apology.

"Well Paul, we should probably get a sweat on. Later."

And with that Tracey grabbed my hand - in an absolute iron grip - and yanked
me away.

"You should have butted in earlier,"she said. " That's the guy I used to live
with. What an asshole."

"Him? He's huge."

"He's bigger than you,"is all she could say.

And with that Tracey let go of my hand, although I still felt like she had me
by a leash.

"Stretch out a bit and meet me by the treadmills in 5 minutes,"she said. "I
have to change."

As she left, I dutifully did as I was told and stretched. And waited. Until
she reappeared wearing exactly the same tracksuit. The only difference now was
that her hair was up and she had a bottle of water in her hand.

"5 minutes for a pony-tail?"I asked

"I changed, but underneath. I haven't decided if I'm going to work out with
you or not. Have you stretched?"

"Yes ma'am,"I teased.

"Well then get on the treadmill, we'll see if you might be able to keep up."

She pointed to two unoccupied treadmills, side-by-side. As I turned to look
back at her, I witnessed one of the most incredible things ... Tracey was bent
over at the waist, legs straight, the palms of her hands flat on the floor.
She held it for as long as my jaw was dropped before she popped up. " I should
be warm. I just did this 45 minutes ago."

As I got on the treadmill, she punched in a few numbers on my machine and it
whirred into motion. Then she got on the machine next to me and punched in a
few more numbers and despite running I could tell they were different. And she
explained why by saying, "If this is only going to last a little while I might
need a higher resistance."

We started out neck and neck. But after only a few minutes, I could start to
feel my shins burning. I looked next to me only to see Tracey humming along,
at a much faster pace than I, chatting away to me the whole time about Paul,
and how much it hurt when they broke up and how she missed having a training
partner that could push her, etc. All the while, without breaking a sweat. Or
missing a breath. In fact, I couldn't even tell if she was breathing. At least
not heavily. And her head ... it was perfectly still and it stayed that way
for 20 agonizing minutes until she turned and looked at me, giggled and said
that maybe I had had enough. Somehow I nodded, managed to get off the
treadmill and not faint when she said she wanted 5 more minutes and that
because I wasn't paying her, she was going to get it. Then she told me to
stretch, punched in some more numbers, put her walkman on and started running
even faster. I couldn't help but watch, not that she was paying any attention
to me. While she still hadn't broken a sweat, she was now much more focused,
breathing in and out in a rhythm, pumping her arms and legs on a mission. Just
then I noticed that a man on one of the treadmills next to me, whispered in my
ear ... "That's Tracey man, she's a machine. Absolutely incredible. I took one
of her spinning classes and I nearly died."I turned and looked at the guy, a
very fit man in his mid-30's who was watching Tracey in awe. I couldn't blame
him.

15 minutes of this continued as I waited and waited. Once she turned and asked
if I was cooling down yet. When I said I was still fine, she put her earphones
back on and continued without another word. When she was finally done, she
jumped off the treadmill with a smile.

"I think I'm going to work out with you today. I'm working shoulders, so I
guess that's where you're going to start."

With that said, Tracey took a big gulp from her water. As she was swishing it
around in her mouth, she offered me a swig. Which I took. In fact I nearly
drank the whole thing before she took it away. " Enough."

She led me to an empty bench and told me to start stretching my shoulders. She
also asked, "What do you think you can bench press?"

"I don't know. What do you think?"

"What do you weigh?"

"About 170."

"Let's say 150 then."

"You think?"

"Maybe."

And with that Tracey went and retrieved two 50 lb dumbbells, picking them from
their stands with ease, and bringing them towards the incline bench.

"Jesus you're strong,"I said.

"I know."

"But your math sucks. That's not 150," I joked.

"Get on the bench."

Tracey, 50 pounders in hand, stood behind me. Placed the dumbbells in my hands
and said, "You know the deal. Exhale on the way up, work it both ways, I'll
spot what you can't do. As soon as the weight hit my hands I knew I was in
trouble. I pumped out three reps before Tracey had her hands on my elbows and
whispering in my ear ... "C'mon ... one at a time. You can do it. C'mon."It
felt like she was blowing on my ear and as sexy as it felt, it still wasn't
enough. I was done after 6 reps, the last one being almost all her.

"That's not so bad, I guess,"she said. " My turn! Want to go get my weight?"

"I'm starting with 75's. But don't worry, I'll get them."And with a smirk on
her face, she looked down at me and winked quickly before heading over for the
75s. At least I think she winked. I couldn't tell you if she did however for I
was like a deer in headlights. In fact I was still sitting on the bench as she
returned with the 75's.

"I might need the bench, hon,"she said before I scrambled off of the bench.
"Don't bother spotting,"she calmly stated. "I don't need you to get hurt."And
before I knew it, she had pounded out 15 quick reps, in perfect form and was
standing next to me. And the energy that she exuded was in full force now. I
was dizzy from the display, but I think I heard her say '10 years.'

'Excuse me?'I asked.

'10 years of training. That's what it takes.'

'Give me two weeks.'

'No matter how good a job I do, not in a million years for you. You remember
I've met your parents. You don't have the genetics I do.'

She was right. Both of her parents were wide and naturally strong. In fact, I
remember when we first met and she was 18, I could barely wrestle her to the
ground she was so strong. Just looking at her, even without seeing what she
could do in the gym, I really doubt I'd stand much of a chance now. She must
have been thinking exactly the same thing because when she blurted,I

"10 years ago I could barely beat you in an arm wrestling match. Remember
that?"

"I beat you."

"I let you."

"No you didn't."

"I've always been stronger than you."

"No you haven't."

"Want to prove it?"A wicked smile crossed her face, her body pumped from her
last set. "C'mon. I dare you to try."

Here she was, my first love, easily twice as strong as me, and teasing me
because of it.

"Stop it,"I quietly replied, putting my arm out to playfully push her away,
but as soon as I had done that, her right hand snapped out, knocking away my
wrist. God she was fast. Yes, I had seen her on the treadmill, but her block
of my push was truly scary.

"C'mon, two weeks! No dilly-dallying."

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly, seeing how after her little
display, Tracey had decided that perhaps she'd be better served by waiting to
work out on her own. She ran me through a gauntlet of exercises, so much so
that I could barely get out of bed the next day to answer the phone, ringing
at 5:30 am. It was Tracey, already in the gym, telling me to get up and go for
a jog. Saying something about cardio on an empty stomach. I couldn't really
remember because I fell back asleep. If she was one thing, it was relentless.

The next week of workouts were harsh and were done under the eye of Tracey,
always fully dressed, never joining in. Her chatty nature however made things
go pretty smoothly. She was telling me about her upcoming bodybuilding
competition, to which I knew very little about. While she certainly seemed
pretty solid and was in great shape no doubt, I wasn't exactly sure what kind
of body she had built, however she explained everything - the foods she was
eating, her exercise routine, her tanning. At this point in her life, she had
nothing but training and working, eating and sleeping and she said it was
really beginning to show.

After a week and a half, I decided that because she had been training me for
free and how we were getting along so well that I would take her out shopping
after my last session and buy her whatever she wanted as a token of thanks.
She graciously accepted and at the 2-week stage we hit the mall attached to
the gym.

While secretly a part of me was hoping she'd pick out a sexy outfit or
something revealing so I could see what was beneath her constant sweatshirts
and track suits, she told me about a leather jacket she had been eying and we
set out to find it. Once at the store, she found the jacket in question and
tried it on over her bulky sweatshirt. It agreed and I paid out the nose for
it.

She was so excited that the hug she gave me to thank me nearly crushed me.
Once again however I couldn't help but look in her eyes and sheepishly I asked
her out for dinner.

"Oh, Ted. Sorry, but no."

"Why not? Just friends."

"I'm just ... "

"What?"

"You're not really my type."

"I was once,"I replied. "Just friends."

"Just steak then,"was her answer.

I met her outside a stakehouse near her apartment the next evening and was
greeted by her wrapped in the black leather jacket with a dress and heels to
match. The dress was long and hid her frame well, however when we entered the
restaurant and she unzipped her coat, she unveiled a willowy blouse,
unbuttoned just enough to show off her thick, tanned neck. The meat came (she
had two massive steaks, no trimmings and water) and went and so did the
conversation. I was extremely attracted to her, but I wasn't sure if the
feelings were being felt for her. As the dinner wrapped up, I offered to walk
her home but she said that she could would be fine on her own.

"I'm just being a gentleman," I pleaded.

"What? Do you think I can't handle myself?"

"I'm not sure."

"Trust me. I'll be fine."

"Trust me. I'd like the company."

We walked along, enjoying the evening and when we finally reached her condo,
she asked if I'd like to come up. Which I obliged. Her place was nice. A
one-bedroom, it had a great view of the city and as we entered, quickly she
took off her high heels.

"I hate these things,"she said as she massaged her feet. "Have a seat. I'm
going to change. Get more comfortable. And don't get your hopes up."

I went into the living room. As she changed I pulled out a photo album. A
collection of recent and not so recent boyfriends, I couldn't help but notice
I wasn't in the book.

"That was Josh,"I heard from behind me, as Tracey had quickly pulled on a pair
of old jogging pants and an oversized t-shirt that was cropped to show off her
abs. And what abs. They were incredible, not just a 6-pack, but an 8-pack with
chiseled obliques on the side and diamond stud in her navel. My jaw must have
dropped but she continued about the man in the picture. "He ran a tae-kwon-do
academy so when I said I could take care of myself, trust me, I can take care
of myself."

I looked over at her. And from her abs, I moved to her face, her hair, her
smile. Then down to her arms. God. I hadn't seen them before, but they were
huge. Even as they rested at her side, veins crissed crossed up her thick
forearms and up into her biceps, which looked like two milk bags hanging full.
I was staring uncontrollably and realizing that yes, with arms like those, she
could easily 'take care of herself'.

Tracey plopped down onto the sofa next to me and in her bouncy tone, asked
what we were going to talk about to which I responded, "How about your
contest?"

"It's going ok. I'm really getting cut."

"I figured there was something underneath your clothes, but nothing like
that," I said as I pointed to her arm.

"Do you want to try the armwrestle."

"Excuse me?"

"Like we said that first day."

"I can't beat you."

"You've gotten a lot stronger over these past two weeks. Probably stronger
than you may have ever been. Plus you're heavier, a weight advantage. Height
advantage. C'mon, it'll be fun."

And with that Tracey jumped off the sofa, stepped to the other side of the
coffee table, kneeled onto the floor and put her elbow onto the table.

"C'mon," she said one more time to which I begrudgingly agreed and kneeled on
the floor opposite her.

Quickly we locked hands and got a good grip. Hers was much stronger than mine
I was afraid and as I looked into her eyes, I could tell she was enjoying
this.

"On the count of three, OK?"

I nodded.

"One, two...

And I began to push as hard as I could, hoping that the element of surprise
would catch her off-balance. Which it did. I couldn't believe it. My quick
start had gotten her nearly half way down. I was watching her hand and her
unbelievable forearms as I continued to push, measuring just how much further
I had to go before winning.

"Ted," I heard. "Ted."

Slowly I took my eyes away from her arm and towards her eyes. She had been
staring at me the whole time. She smiled as her grip on my hand tightened to
the point where I wanted to give up. Im fact, I stopped pushing strictly
because of the grip.

"Oooh...is that too tight?" she cooed before loosening the grip. And then, in
one split second, my hand went from pushing hers to being pinned onto the
table. It happened in such a flash I couldn't figure out what happened.

She laughed and laughed before explaining, "You really had no chance. Sorry,
but I just had to do that. You looked so cute there for a second. You really
thought you could beat me. Well, you're a good sport. Weak, but a good sport."

"Weak?"

Tracey laughed as she stood up and walked around towards me.

"Yes, weak," she teased as now she stood next to where I kneeled on the floor.
I turned, and as I began to stand, rushed her playfully, wrapping my arms
around her legs as to lift her onto my shoulder. I figured that despite her
strength, I still outweighed her by a fair margin and while I may not be as
strong, I could handle 150 on my shoulder (if she even weighed that much)

I heard her scream playfully as I successfully grabbed around her legs and
began my shoulder towards he midsection.

"You little shit!" she yelled laughing. "NO YOU DON'T!" As soon as I tried
lifting her, I could feel her hands pushing down on my back. Immediately I
fell back down to my knees beneath her strength. Her hands moved down to my
shoulders as she easily spread her legs to break my hold. I looked up from my
spot on the floor as she began to laugh and in a flash, her hands went from my
shoulders to beneath my armpits and she quickly curled me up to my feet. My
God she was stronger than I could ever imagine. Tracey continued to lift me,
now up into the air off my feet. I looked down at her as she let go and I
somehow landed on my feet. Here I was looking down 6 inches into her eyes
below, feeling that she completely physically superior to me in every way. She
was easily wider. Stronger. Faster. And much, much prettier.

"What were you trying to do? This?" she asked as quickly she rammed her
shoulder into my gut and lifted me up onto her with only her left arm. Before
I could answer, her right arm wrapped around my legs.

"Tracey..."

"What?" she giggled. "I won't drop you. Unless I want."

"Huh...?"

With that Tracey threw me backwards onto her sofa. I caught my breath from the
drop to look up at her in her ripped t and sweatpants. She threw up her arms
into a double biceps pose.

"Look at me. What are you thinking? Do you honestly think you can compete?
Because trust me...you can't. Don't even test your luck."

As I stood and playfully stepped towards her, with two quick steps she was on
me and pushing me back onto the sofa. She was right. It was useless even
trying to fight back for in seconds I was back on my ass, Tracey sitting on
top of me, my wrists in her wicked grip, pulled out to each side.

Only inches away from her I looked at her breasts and noticed that the large
bulges in her bra were in fact inplants. I looked down at her arms, and
realized that they her arms were thicker than my legs. And her legs - although
they were still covered, I could make out the definite outlines of her
gigantic quads. I tried to buck her off me, but she quickly clamped down on
me, trapping me with very little effort.

"What am I to do with you?" she cooed.

"How long did that take? 1 second? 2? Should I let you up and give you one
last try? Nah. I don't think I'll do that."

As she thought I realized I had to do something. My only hope was to change
the atmosphere I thought. I had a quick idea. A kiss I thought. But as I tried
to kiss her, she backed away and forced a slap to my face from my own hand.

"I think you should go home before I hurt you," she spit as she released her
grip on me and rolled to her feet. I watched as she walked towards the door, a
door as wide as her V-shaped back. Realizing I wasn't moving she stopped and
turned back.

"Time for you to go."

She wasn't kidding. The attempted kiss didn't go over very well at all.

"I said 'Friends only'" as she crossed her arms and waited for me to stand.
"Don't make me throw you out."

"C'mon Tracey, I was only joking. What else was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know. How about be a man and force the little girl off of you?"

"Tracey..."

"Oh, that's right. You're not man enough. The door's right there."

As I approached her, she turned away from me, giving me the cold shoulder and
walking back into the living room. I don't know if she remembered this or not
but this 'walking away' was a major issue for me when we were dating and
things hadn't changed. I reached out and grabbed her by her arm, a move she
easily shrugged off.

"Trace..." I said as she continued. Once again I tried her left arm, grabbing
her thick bicep this time with a stronger grip and began to turn her around. I
knew I was playing with fire but didn't realize the extent until she spun back
towards me, grabbed my hand that was on her left arm with her right, twisted
it around in such a way I fell to the floor in instant pain.

"Where in the hell did she learn that?" was all I could think as she dropped
my arm.

"Leave now before this gets ugly." I was about to plead but realized she
wasn't joking. I turned, defeated and walked out, determined never to return.

For a week I couldn't shake what had happened and my sprained wrist forced me
to remember with every pained breath I took. I called her to apologize, but
never heard back from the messages I left. I knew I shouldn't have but I
couldn't help it. Not only did I feel foolish for what I had done but I was
still in awe of who she had become.

After my wrist came back to normal, I returned to the gym (Tracey had forced
me to buy a memebership before her training me had even begun) and started
back onto the program that she had set me out on. And of course it didn't take
long for the two of us to run into one another.

As I was coming out of the change room, I saw her as she entered into the
complex. As she came near, I quickly apologized (again) for what had happened
but to no avail. She acted as if I didn't even exist, slipping on her
headphones just before passing by and sauntered past me towards the machines.
Determined to get a workout, I hit the treadmill like she had taught me.

Once there, I began a slow jog, but I couldn't keep my eyes off her,
especially when she lifted off the sweatshirt she was wearing and headed
towards the dumbells in nothing but a black sportsbra. Up until this point, I
had seen her abs, her arms and felt her strength, but even my wildest
imagination wasn't enough to fill in all of what was beneath her whatever
clothes she wore. There was not an ounce of fat on her. Veins ripped up and
down her arms, her torso. Striations in her shoulders, forearms. She looked
like a superhero as she reached for two 80 pounders and began to curl.
Watching her workout was enough to make me stop on the treadmill. I hit the
showers early and headed for the Second Cup outside. Primed to make my move.

I must have had 3 coffees before she appeared from the gym in tear-aways and a
sweatshirt, fresh from her workout well over 2 hours after it started.
Sandwiched between two bodybuilder-type guys, she seemed phased for a moment
when I appeared and stepped towards her, but it only took a second before she
waved the two guys on and, with a smile said 'I'll meet up with you later.'
After they were out of earshot she spun towards me. "What do you want?"

"To apologize."

"I got your messages. Thanks," she replied curtly, already bored with me.

"I'd like to talk."

"About...?"

"The other night."

I could see her roll her eyes ever so slightly. "I have to go," was her only
reply.

"Just a few minutes."

"Fine," she huffed. "Walk me to my car," she commanded while already into a
brisk walk. I could barely keep up with her as she weaved through mall traffic
and finally into the parking lot. I hadn't said too much at this point, other
than how badly I felt. When we arrived at her car, she said "Well we're here.
Now what?"

The first thing I did before I said anything too serious was grab her hand.
And while she didn't back away, I did hear a small "Ted" as I was rambling
about maybe trying things again.

"Ted," she said, this time a bit louder. "Let go."

I was still pleading I think when suddenly a huge shot of pain burst through
my arm. I looked as she had me in a game of mercy. Which I knew I was going to
lose.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" I screamed, as I slapped at her grip
with my one loose hand. I must have hit her pretty hard, because surprisingly
I had slipped out of the mercy hold.

"What's the matter with me??" she shouted, now right up in my chest, almost
threatening me. "You're the freak!!"

"Freak?" I asked as she bumped into my chest with hers. She was bumping me,
walking into me and pushing me backwards. There were a number of empty parking
spaces in the now vacant lot, but I still felt like I had to stop her and I
brought my hands up to push her away, resting them on her massive shoulders. I
pushed with all my might, knocking her back a half a step. I think from the
look on her face, she wasn't expecting me to push her. Maybe she thought I was
afraid of her or that I wouldn't lay a finger on her. Either way, as she
stepped in to push me back, I met her, hands out again.

Unfortunately, she wasn't planning on a push like I had thought, and her step
forward was quickly followed by her crouching down and knocking both my arms
away with one of hers while, in one fluid motion, meeting my midsection with
the top of her right quad. Immediately I doubled up. Her leg was felt like a
tree trunk smashing into my soft gut. I was down for the count immediately. As
I looked up at her, I saw a set of headlights coming towards us in the parking
lot. Relief?

I tried to stand to flag down the car but realized quickly that the car was
occupied by none other than the two goons that left the gym with her a few
short minutes earlier. While I couldn't hear the conversation perfectly, I did
distinctly hear Tracey say to them, "Get ready for a show."

And with that she turned around to face me by stripping off her sweatshirt
dropping into some sort of weird martial arts stance, only in a sports bra,
still pumped from her long workout. The guys in the car started whooping and
hollering and I realized I had to run away or stay and fight.

I tried to run. Big mistake.

Like a panther, Tracey had made two steps to her right and caught me by my
collar. Quickly she spun me around towards her and fired a spectacular punch
with her right square into my chest which knocked me into the car now behind
me and then down to the ground..

As I fell again, I could hear laughing from the two meatheads inside the car.
This enraged me but not nearly enough as the sight I caught next. It was
Tracey smiling in my direction. Or at least I thought it was my direction
until I realized she was smiling at the two guys in the car I had just been
tossed into. SHE WAS LAUGHING AT ME.

No longer in her stance, she now stood loose and relaxed, almost cocky in her
suspicion that I was no match. I had had enough. I jumped back up as quickly
as I could, but as I lunged at my ex with a flying right hand, my fist was met
by her grip and followed by the most horrifying experiences of my life.

In a split second Tracey went from loose and relaxed to cold-blooded killer as
she slammed two quick kicks into my right side and dropped my failed punch
with disdain. My ribs I was sure, were at least cracked as I looked towards
her.

I think I caught her winking towards her buddies as she made half a step back
before gracefully starting into a spin. I wasn't sure what was coming, but I
tried like hell to cover up. Not that it mattered as before I knew it, she had
turned a full 360 degrees and was feeding me a roundhouse kick that felt like
it demolished the right side of my face, blowing through whatever feeble block
attempt I managed to throw up.

Back on the ground, this time on my knees, I hadn't a clue which direction was
up, down, right or left. Before I could get my bearings, I felt her hand grab
me by the hair of the back of my head and with her grip, pull me slightly up
off the ground and slam my face into something. As my eyes refocused, I
realized I was flat against the side window of the car containing the two guys
who were both now in stitches. I tried to push my head away from the window
but couldn't budge. I put both of my hands against the cardoor to try and push
away but still was immobilized.

And as her hand squeezed my hair tighter, I felt her other hand grip the belt
on the back of my jeans. And then I heard a tiny 'ummph'. It was with this
noise that I felt removed from the car and the ground.

She was pressing me over her head! Up and down, up and down she pushed me
before her one last up with which she let go, allowing me to just drop to the
cement floor of the parking garage. Needless to say I didn't bounce. Nor did I
move.

I just laid on the ground helpless. Within 25 seconds I had been floored
numerous times. I looked over towards my tormentor to find her chuckling as
she put her sweatshirt back on. After she calmly dressed, she stepped towards
me and spit in my face.

If it had have been anyone else I would have tried to do something, but I knew
I had no other choice to allow her to do anything she wanted. I completely
outclassed and helpless. I just lied there as she went to her friends, made
plans for the night over a few more laughs and then went to her car and drove
off.

Nearly two years had passed without any sight of her when one day I was in the
mall just shopping around when I noticed one of the most massive guys I had
ever seen. This guy must have been at least twice the size as Paul from the
gym and he was sitting in the food court. Across from him was Tracey. Wearing
a blue tank, Tracey was now much bigger than I ever remembered her and even
more deeply tanned, cut from stone. I gathered that she had found in this guy
a new training partner that could push her even more. I stood from the other
side of the mall and admired her new physique when I think she may have caught
me out of the corner of her eye. It was either me she caught or another of the
numerous on-lookers for she made sure to make a show of picking up the giant
GNC bag on the floor at her feet, curling it as she did. And as her new boytoy
stood up, you could see in his face the pride he had in his amazing woman, a
woman who could demolish any other man in the food court easily. I had
continued working out for two straight years and had felt extremely proud of
my accomplishments up until that moment. I realized then that no matter how
hard I ever worked I would never measure up to her again.

A few months later, I picked up a bodybuilding magazine at my gym, only to
find a photo spread of her. She had turned professional and looking absolutely
incredible, I somehow summoned up the courage to send another email,
congratulating her on the photos.

She replied as such...

Saw you at the mall. I'm amazed you survived. But if you ever see me again in
a similar situation and so much as even look in my direction, I will kick the
living shit out of you.

Never email me again.

And I never did.