BHM On Thin Ice - by Ashblonde (~BHM, ~FFA, Romance)

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Busy writing
May 8, 2006
“Nice place,” Logan looked around the fitness center Meadow worked at. It wasn’t anything like the old sweaty and worn gyms and he was used to. This facility was loaded with shiny mahogany floors, granite countertops and polished nickel accents everywhere. Everyone they passed was toned, groomed and good looking. She fits right in here, he thought to himself, feeling dumpy in his old, worn-out gym clothes.

She rolled her eyes and nodded, lowering her voice, “It’s all a big show.”

“What do you mean?” Logan asked her.

“Do you think anyone builds more muscle or burns more calories because the towels are fluffier or the steam room has special aromatic oils pumped into your lungs?” She smirked.

He smiled and relaxed, relieved she was down to earth about it.

“But, you do get awesomely talented professional trainers here,” she joked, pointing her thumb to herself with a wink. “And, a brand new TRX set. Check this out,” she led him into the room.

“We have just one of these in our gym,” Logan grabbed a suspension strap dangling from the ceiling, “But not filling a whole room like this.”

“Do you like it?” Meadow asked him.

“I never used it much,” he admitted. “My coaches always sent me to the cardio machines after weights and the usual dryland work.”

She felt badly for him, with all the focus on his weight. If he’s good enough to play for an NCAA team and help them win, what did a few extra pounds matter?

She had to acknowledge to herself though, that if he had been anywhere close to 300 pounds, that was way too heavy to play as fast as he needed to… but it seemed like his coaches had always elevated the number on the scale to even more importance than his actual ability and game performance. A few weeks of doing things ‘the Renate way’ seemed to be doing more for him than anything the team ever dreamed up. Typical hockey fools, she thought, but kept it to herself.

“This technique is awesome for the strengthening the internal obliques… helps with shifting direction even faster,” she showed him how to turn with it for the most power and stability, and then handed him a strap. As he raised his arm to rotate and extend his body, his shirt rose up a bit and she noticed a bit of his tummy, hanging onto his torso for dear life. That little roll didn’t want to go anywhere, but it seemed his determination would probably make it all go away along with the rest of the sexiest, jiggliest fat that had already disappeared.

“Speaking of strengthening, how are your practices going these days?” She asked him while she demonstrated how to lean through a back extension, “Do you feel like what you’re doing in the mornings is helping your game?”

“Good, yeah” he answered with a half-smile, following her moves and breathing out. It had been pretty great actually. Coach Mike pulled him aside just the day before and told him how proud he was of Logan for staying committed to the extra work and keeping a positive attitude at practices.

He may have been almost half-way to his goal weight, but Logan didn’t want to say too much about it to Meadow, worried he might jinx things. There were months ahead of him with the unrelenting pressure to drop more pounds... plus a whole summer during which he could backslide. He knew all too well how easy it was to lose control of his appetite and his body all over again.

“You’re going to be totally ready next year,” Meadow seemed to read his mind by completely contradicting his thoughts. “Maybe you’ll even get a pro contract.”

Logan laughed as he breathed through a lunge, “Naw, they fill up from the draft with all the CHL guys, junior leagues, and ringers from all over the world; they only make room for the truly elite players from the college ranks. I’m barely 6’1” so even if I was the hardest guy on ice...” Logan explained.

Meadow raised her eyebrow. He seemed to be plenty tall to her, anyway.

“Most defensemen in the NHL are a little taller... and I knew I wasn’t naturally pro material, so getting the NCAA scholarship was lucky, and seemed like the smarter way to go,” he explained with a shrug. “Coach says if I get my shit together I have a shot at the minors, but that’s not a great living, considering the bigger beating on the body.”

“My family is proof that you can be among the greatest in the world and not get rich,” Meadow shrugged.

Logan nodded, remembering Meadow’s background. She was really different than most girls he knew, that was for sure.

“A couple of WHL and USHL teams showed some interest before I committed to UMN, but I liked school too much,” he continued to explain, “and playing for the Gophers was a dream come true.” He smiled.

“Was?” She questioned his word choice with another raised eyebrow and an encouraging smile.

“Is,” he smiled even wider, appreciating her positivity. “Pride on Ice,” he modestly fist pumped.

“So you like school a lot,” she grinned back. “You gave yourself an extra year, at least.”

He laughed, “Yep, I secretly wanted an extra year of classes, so I ate everything I could get my hands on and piled on a bunch of weight. Everyone thinks I’m a dumb, fat jock, but I’m actually executing a brilliant plan.”

He sort of regretted making a joke about his weight problems with Meadow but for whatever reason he was doing it more and more. He knew his weight was just another performance stat to coaches and scouts, but with women it was a more shameful, uncomfortable topic. Meadow had started to surprise him though. She made it not such a big deal; almost insignificant, really. It’s weird, because she’s so athletically perfect, yet I can kind of joke about my worst weakness with her and it’s not that horrible.

His fat talk and red-faced sheepish smile was mouthwatering to Meadow. He knows exactly how to turn me on and doesn’t even realize it. She shifted the conversation to a less sexy question to pull herself out of it. “So what are you majoring in?”

“I finished my credits for Business Marketing, so I added Econ as a double major,” he explained. “The team usually steers guys to the practical majors, but I decided that I liked the theory side more.”

“That’s cool,” she admired him all the more now. He may have struggled with diet discipline, but he was a hard worker in every other area of his life. She felt badly for thinking so little of him before, and for judging him based on superficial things like his choice of sport, or his cocky smile. She had even judged him about his weight gain, while at the same time, finding excitement over it. Guilt began to seep into her complicated feelings, nestling right alongside her unsettling fear of falling for him.


Well-Known Member
Apr 23, 2007
very interesting and complex story :)

lovely to read her ambigious thining towards his training ;-) i wonder what happens when she let loose ^^

thanks for shring this great piece of work :eat2:

Xyantha Reborn

- Actually Very Tame!
Jul 23, 2014
Well that did it, getting Starling in here motivated me even more to get these last parts of the current chapter cleaned up and posted before a holiday weekend.

psssst... Starling, when will you share more of your talents with us again? miss your work xxoo :)
Oh! I see how it is ;)

But I have to admit I second the sentiment. I love all of you, and this story especially:bow:


Well-Known Member
Jun 20, 2008
:blush: Why thanks!!! I have to admit your and Xyantha's recent awesome stories have drawn me back into wanting to write BHM stories again! Great addition!


Busy writing
May 8, 2006
Xy, you regularly inspire and entertain - and we are lucky for it - I hope to never take your talents for granted ;)

But now we have given Starling a little tiny push too - so win-win.

I figured since I was in Minneapolis today, I had to get a bit more posted, even if its the wrong season; I know its not a hearty update, but more is not too far away...


Busy writing
May 8, 2006
Part Five: Warmer regards

Logan stood in front of Meadow with his hands on his hips in an impatient stance.

Her eyes skimmed along his body for only a moment. Does he look even thinner? Dang it...

“So?” he demanded.

“Well,” she looked down, feigning disappointment, “It wasn’t good...”

He looked at her with such pity that she couldn’t keep her straight, sad face. Her news was too exciting.

“It was great! I got a first in the 1500! I came in at 2:09, which puts me in the pack for Nationals,” she beamed.

His face lit up and without thinking he put his hand on her shoulder in congratulations. “That’s so great Meadow! Awesome!” He would have hugged her, but she was, well… Meadow. She wasn’t one of those people you could just hug.

“Thanks,” she shrugged humbly, feeling her shoulder tingle from his simple gesture. It felt really good to share her excitement with someone who understood the thrill of competition, even if she was thrown off by his well-meaning touch. “I think I may start considering the 3000 though. I came in with a solid time in that heat without really even focusing on it that much. I need to talk more to Renate about that,” she reasoned.

“Longer distance suits you,” he smiled. “When we raced, it took you a few laps, but you caught up to me and I’m pretty damn fast,” he laughed.

“That’s true, I did start kicking your ass that day,” she nodded in mock agreement.

He shook his head at her clear exaggeration, but her ego was becoming almost charming to him.

“So now you get really serious.”

“I’ve always been serious,” she smirked playfully.

Oh, yes, that ego, he just smiled. "February?"

She let out a big sigh, “Yep. I really need Renate now, she can’t come back fast enough.”

“Yeah, even I miss her,” Logan joked, although because they were forced together with no referee, he could also see how their friendlier rapport was also forced along, which seemed to melt her icy personality a bit more.

“She’s going to be really happy to see you,” Meadow blurted the words before she could pull them back.

“Why me?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Your… progress over the last few weeks,” she had to acknowledge his reduction now that she had stupidly brought it up. It was hard to be enthusiastic, as she was never good at faking positivity. And it was wrong, especially from a professional standpoint, to be anything other than encouraging of his weight loss goals. What is wrong with me?

“She’ll have to give you some credit too,” Logan felt his face getting warm. Meadow had generally avoided much talk of weight loss with him. She had mostly focused on fitness and strength development, not talk of pounds lost, which was a relief in a way. But it had left the whole reason he was doing the morning sessions mostly unspoken between.

Deep down, Meadow did not want to take credit for his shrinking body, and the irony was continuing to torment her. “You should take the most credit since you’re the one doing the work,” she deflected the praise back to him. “Getting up early every day to get bossed around by women who’ve never played hockey before in their lives… not to mention depriving yourself of everything that tastes good,” she smiled sheepishly.

“It sucks, I’ll admit it. I want nothing more than a big greasy cheeseburger,” he shook his head. She had drawn the honesty right out of him.

“I hear ya,” she smiled, trying to hide her turned on flutters and fight off images in her mind of him pigging out with reckless abandon.

“Oh right, I bet you’ve never even craved a big greasy cheeseburger,” he chuckled. “I’m sure you were raised on kale and quinoa infused whole grain organic tofu and lentil patties.”

“Shut up,” she couldn’t help but laugh at his made-up crunchy hippie meal. “I’m just like everyone else. I’d eat a big hot fudge sundae every single day if I could. I miss the hell out of pizza, onion rings and chili cheese fries and everything that tastes good, believe me.”

“Stop,” he pleaded with a big grin, rubbing his cute, but shrunken gut. “Chili cheese fries? Geez, you’re making me hungry.”

“Then it’s time to get to work,” Meadow changed the subject in an attempt to squash her fantasies of his gluttony and formerly fatter physique. With the way she was feeling about those kind of thoughts, she figured she probably needed the workout more than he did.


After a mid-December speed and recovery session at the Oval, Logan and Meadow sat down on the benches to take off their skates. As the Zamboni began its long slow journey around the full 400 meters, the public skating crowd was beginning to hover around, getting laced up and waiting to jump on the ice.

Meadow studied them, young and old, in all different shapes and sizes. They were just average people looking to get away from their lives for an hour or two by gliding around in circles communally rather than competitively.

“When was the last time you skated for fun?” She asked Logan, thinking about all these strangers and their carefree approach to skating. “Like, just on the ice with no coach, no practice, and no competition?”

He looked at her with confusion, puzzled by the unusually introspective question. But her face was genuine in its inquisitiveness, so he thought seriously about it for a moment. He’d been training for elite play for so long...

“Probably middle school, at Cornelia or Lewis Park... but we’d always get yelled at or kicked off for being too aggressive, so we gave up on the public ponds,” he smirked over the memories. He hadn’t thought about those days in a while. Usually the guys in the neighborhood would just informally slap a puck around or play some pickup games, until girls showed up... that’s when they’d get rambunctious and usually get asked to leave shortly thereafter. The stakes got much higher when the scouts started showing up at his U14 games and his life quickly became all training, all the time.

She smiled knowingly, thinking to herself about how much she had detested those wild hockey boys, always showing off and hacking up perfectly good ice. Logan must have definitely been one of those boys.

“What about you?” He asked in return, suspecting that she had always been training for something. Imagining her having any kind of fun at all was a bit of a stretch.

Meadow wasn’t sure, actually. “I don’t know, probably grade school,” she shrugged. The only reason the question popped into her head was that she couldn’t remember the last time she had skated for any reason other than to train or compete.

“Well, Lake of the Isles finally opened,” he mentioned nonchalantly. Logan had a nostalgic habit of paying attention to news of outdoor rink conditions around the Twin Cities. “If you want to go skate for fun, it sounds like it’s not going to be too cold this weekend.”

“Yeah?” She felt suddenly excited. Just going out to a public park rink, and skating around casually in regular winter clothes? Wait, is he asking me to go with him or just suggesting I go do it myself? Meadow’s heart rate rebounded back to cardiovascular levels.

“You wanna go there and hang out?” He asked her more pointedly. He couldn’t believe he was asking her to go with him now... it just sort of slipped out. Now he was afraid she’d think he was asking her on a date. Wait, am I asking her on a date?

“For fun?” She asked him to clarify, scared to answer affirmatively.

“No, training, I was thinking of plowing a special 400 meter track just for you,” he playfully used some sarcasm, trying to ease his own nerves.

She laughed and shook her head. He’s adorable when he’s cheeky… one more thing I should detest about him.

“The team is on winter break, and besides,” he was relieved to have suddenly remembered an objective reason to suggest the whole thing, “Renate says I also have to do outdoor exercise every weekend, so you’d be helping me stay good with her.”

“Yes, Renate is a big believer in the invigorating power of fresh air,” Meadow rolled her eyes with a loopy grin.

“I have a meeting with Coach on Sunday, so Saturday is better,” Logan suggested, not wanting to mention the fact that he had a weigh-in and fat test on Sunday as well.

“I’m giving skating lessons until 4,” she told him.

“How about 6 then? At the warming hut?” He proposed. Logan was feeling almost confident these days. He couldn’t tell if it was because his weight loss was picking up steam, or it was that Meadow had become friendly enough that he could talk to her like... well, kind of like, a friend. As long as I keep remembering that she’s not interested in me for more than that, I can be cool with her.

She nodded and smiled, “6 it is.” She was half elated, and half uneasy, feeling caught completely between the distressing possibility that he might come on to her and complicate things, or, the depressing reality that he wouldn’t ever hit on her; because he didn’t like her that way at all.


Library Girl
Staff member
Library Mod
Jun 21, 2008
What a lovely surprise - an unexpected new chapter!

Although it is a bit surreal reading about ice rinks on the so far hottest day of summer with a high of 36°C/97°F .....


Busy writing
May 8, 2006
Christmas music was humming in the warming hut as Meadow walked in. She found Logan in a corner already getting his skates on. He was wearing a sporty blue ski jacket with jeans, looking every bit the Scandinavian hunk that he was. His chub may have been disappearing, but he was still nice and broad looking, and that was some consolation to her anyhow. He looked up to see her in front of him.

“You made it,” he smiled; she sensed relief in his grin.

“Yeah, sorry I’m a little late, lessons went long. Parents like to talk a lot about their kids after classes,” she rolled her eyes in explanation to mask her nervous feelings. She had hustled back to her place quickly to shower and change, but found herself taking extra time to put makeup on and style her hair into a sleeker, high ponytail that would look nice with her lavender headband. But she really didn’t care for the butterflies that had been brewing in her stomach the whole afternoon.

Logan could see something was different with Meadow. She looked really pretty... well, she always looked really pretty... But this was the first time he’d seen her not wearing her usual workout gear or skating tights. She had on denim leggings with a purple form fitting puffer jacket; and her face was made up. She looked more like a girly girl than a jock.

Something else was different too; her demeanor and body language were sort of apprehensive, or maybe even a little anxious. Nothing like the confident strut she displayed in the gym, or while training on the ice. Odd... kind of cute, but odd...

“I brought my figure skates,” she held them up to show him she was capable of having fun.

“I don’t have any of those,” he laughed, “but I’ve got plenty of these bad boys,” he pointed the worn looking pair of Eastons on his feet.

“Those look like they’ve been around for a few games,” she nodded, feeling her nerves settle down a little in conversation.

“My dad spent a thousand bucks on this pair alone, so I feel like I have to find excuses to wear them even though they’re about cashed,” he explained.

“Yeah, I get that,” Meadow knew all too well the massive investment in having elite equipment. Her favorite pair of custom clap skates were almost two grand.

They headed out onto the ice. On one section, some 30-something hockey dads were playing pickup games. Nearby, families and coupled teenagers were making their way around the plowed oval, while a few fitness skaters zipped past them as well. In the middle, a handful of wannabe figure skaters were trying to twirl and launch some unconvincing loop jumps.

“Looks like a real game breaking out over there. You should join in and see if you can help,” Meadow pointed to the unsuspecting weekend warriors between the nets.

Logan shook his head with a knowing grin, “My game may be a bit off, but can you imagine?”

“Those poor guys wouldn’t know what hit them,” Meadow laughed.

“Kind of like what you would do to those guys doing laps over there,” Logan teased her.

“How about we just hang around the figure skaters?” Meadow suggested, feeling like that was neutral territory. Well… she could probably still pull off some spins and jumps, so it was not entirely fair, but she was out of practice enough to justify the idea.

“Sure,” he shrugged and smiled in agreement.

Meadow gently glided alongside Logan, feeling her way back into the fluidity of figure skates with some gentle crossovers, turns, and then a couple of short spins. It felt kind of fun to use those old toe picks again, and just loosen up and enjoy the ice. Her confidence was coming back; as it always did with skates on her feet.

She started feeling nostalgic and wanted to test her old skills. She sped up past him and landed a double loop jump, which felt good, and actually calming. Figure skating had been left happily behind her several years ago, but it was reassuring to know she still had a few of those skills still in her arsenal.

After her land, though, there was an odd silence. Meadow turned to look at Logan, whose face was stunned, as were a couple of the other curious skaters who were watching nearby.

“What was all that?” A surprised smile crept over his face.

“What was all what?” Meadow grinned sheepishly back at him.

“Those were some moves, girl,” he was still wide eyed.

“Renate never told you that I used to be a figure skater?” She tilted her head in mock obliviousness.

“No, she didn’t, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised; next you’ll tell me you’re also secretly a brilliant hockey player too,” he teased her.

“It’s no big deal, I bet you could do half of the standard moves without even thinking about it; just takes some stability and confidence, and you’ve got loads of that,” she complimented him.

Logan smiled humbly, and admitted, “Actually, when I was in middle school, my coach’s wife had been a competitive figure skater. She worked with our team a lot on skating technique, so I learned a few graceful moves,” he winked. “But what she really showed us was how to control the edges more, and you know, keep the body aligned for power; make better use of shoulders when turning fast, and stuff like that. It really helped set me on track to be a better skater.”

“Yes, exactly,” Meadow smiled widely, excited by what he was saying. So few people understood that many of the nuances and biomechanics of skating were common regardless of sport. Sure, the rules, equipment and body types were all completely different, but the points of power and control on blades were similar in a lot of ways.

As they skated around together, she observed how big and gorgeous his rear looked in jeans. In looser gym clothes or athletic pants, a lot of his muscles and beefier parts were vaguely thick and jock-like. But somehow, the tightness of the denim really showed off how huge his thighs and glutes actually were. Just imagine those legs squeezing around me... with my hands on that ass... and if he put some weight back on...

She tried to pull herself back together by concentrating on skating, and threw a couple more figure skating moves at him. But then Logan really impressed her with a few freestyle maneuvers and trick stops... and then he performed a flawless grapevine.

“Holy shit, Logan!” Meadow exclaimed, “You’re a complete ringer!”

“Just hotdog stuff you pick up hanging out on the ice a lot,” he shrugged, thoroughly enjoying her praise but trying to be cool about it. “Sometimes you need a little friendly competition when you’re waiting around for practices, or warmups, or whatever. The key is the right sharpening.”

She loved getting into the dirty details of skates, “What radius do you sharpen to?”

“I’m a big guy, and I have a lot of control, so I go pretty shallow,” he explained, “I get more glide than bite but it works for my size and skating style.”

“These were sharpened deep,” she explained. “You know, for the tight turns and landings, back when speed wasn’t as important as control.”

“Weighing half of what I do makes a difference too,” he joked.

Those words made Meadow feel incredibly sexy next to him. She was absurdly excited by the fact that his blades were tailored to his heaviness. Time to change the subject again, she fought off those thoughts.

“Well, speed skates are like… egalitarian; they’re just nice and flat for everyone, no matter what size you are... Now show me the grapevine move again?” she was still astounded by how gracefully he moved.

Logan broke down the moves to her again, but she kept giving it too much toe pick to master the flow and rhythm, so he stood behind her, trying to talk her though the footwork. Just as he used his hand to support her side, Meadow’s skate slipped in between his blade and tangled up with it, causing her to fall on top of him. Her hand landed on one of his chubby sides to brace for the fall and instinctively she gripped into a softness that she could feel right through his coat. She found herself hanging on a second longer than she knew she should have.

“So, do you have any magic training secrets to get rid of love handles?” he acknowledged her obvious encounter with his remaining side flab, trying to make light of it. He hopped up and held his hand out to help her back up.

“You don’t have to lose those, do you?” she blurted, wishing that instant she could take those words back.

“What?” Logan wasn’t sure he heard correctly, instinctively putting his hands on his waist to try and cover them up. Did she just say what I think she said?

Her face felt hot. “I mean,” she stammered, “You know, they give you, like... character?” She averted her eyes down and spent an extra few seconds brushing the ice shavings off her leggings to avoid looking at him.

“Fat character,” he made a frustrated face. How weird of her to say that. Those damn things have always been the nagging reason my body fat is never low enough for my coaches. She should know that much.

“You can only build so much muscle before you lose agility. Wouldn’t a little extra weight sometimes give you the edge in checking?” she tried to weasel more around her words, since he wasn’t letting go of it.

“Nope, only the taller guys get away with it,” he explained with a sulky frustration. “The refs give them a pass, but they always penalize the fat guy.”

“But you’re the enforcer,” Meadow joked with a wry smile, now trying to compliment his toughness so he didn’t think she was insulting him about his weight.

“Well, too much time in the sin bin makes Coach crazy,” Logan tried to force a joke and a smile in return, but he was still shocked by the feeling of her hand grabbing into his flab and then her making that odd comment.

Then Meadow made what was becoming a recurring mental mistake: thinking about Logan in her sin bin. She couldn’t stop indecent thoughts like that from circulating in her head when she was around him, especially after feeling that sexy little bit of chub along his side.

At this point, she didn’t care if he got all the way down to 200, went back up to 300, or became completely, magnificently obese; or hell, just about anywhere in between. She could only think about how nice he would feel in her bed, intertwined with his broad strength and body heat bearing down on her. And oh, grabbing onto that big butt and those sturdy, broad sides.

Meadow shivered over these thoughts, prompting Logan to conclude that the evening was over. “You’re getting cold. We should pack it up.”

“There’s a good café over on Lyndale, if you’re hungry,” she mentioned, feeling hungry herself and not quite wanting the evening to be over just because she screwed up.

He looked at her with trepidation, “Am I supposed to be eating this late?”

“Did you eat any dinner yet tonight?” She asked him pointedly.

“Not really,” he cautiously told her, having felt too anxious about meeting up with her to eat anything, which was pretty rare for him. Besides, he was also trying to coast strategically into the pre-holiday weigh-in and body fat test that he faced the next morning.

“Well neither did I, so, let’s go,” Meadow was now famished, so she knew he must be feeling hungry too.

fat hiker

Well-Known Member
Oct 25, 2005
Ottawa, ON
OhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGod...... another absolutely fabulous chapter!!!! You have so lightly, gracefully, yet completely accurately captured the inner voice and hesitation of both Logan and Meadow, who should be 'an item' but haven't quite figured that out yet.

There are so many great lines in this chapter - I am so impressed. I especially liked "looking every bit the Scandinavian hunk that he was"and "She was absurdly excited by the fact that his blades were tailored to his heaviness."

Thanks again for keeping on with this story.



Busy writing
May 8, 2006
“Logan!” Renate exclaimed, hugging him. She hadn’t seen him in more than two months. “You’re almost there, wow!”

“Well, not quite,” he half smiled, instinctively looking down at himself and rubbing his hand across the bit of softness still lingering on his torso. He was now hovering around 245, same as his previous year’s playing weight, although he definitely packed more muscle into that number now. Just 20 more fat pounds to go and he’d be back on the team. Getting his body fat down under 12% would be the Holy Grail to finally shut his coaches and team mates up once and for all. But the last 20 are always the toughest…

“You’ve worked hard. Be proud,” she patted him on the back.

“I just don’t know how long I can keep it up,” he admitted, grateful Meadow wasn’t around yet to hear him express his insecurities. Renate had been the one person he felt he could share his self-doubt with. He may have come far with Meadow, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her how afraid he was of failure, or worse, how much power food continued to have over him.

“You don’t have to do it forever. You give it everything you have for only as long as you want to play hockey at this level,” Renate explained to him. “After that you can have your body back.”

“What?” He thought he understood her words, but no one had ever really talked to him about any ending to the pressure and constant vigilance.

“When you are a competitive athlete, Logan, you have agreed to give your body over to something else. You focus it entirely on your goals, and squeeze every last piece of pride, glory or money that you can from it. Then, once that’s done, you get your body back,” Renate enlightened him.

“I never thought about it that way,” Logan nodded.

“That got me through those days when my body ached, and I was so sick of racing around and around, with the smallest chance of ever getting a medal. But I surrendered myself to that goal. Once I got the medal, I decided that’s it, it’s all mine again,” she wrapped her arms around her still very muscular body.

He nodded more, finding her words oddly comforting.

“That day will come for you too. But you have this gift, and this very short space in time that your body can use it. Surrender yourself to it, and when you are done, whether it’s injury, age or you’re just bored, you’ll know you’re done, and you can have it back.”

“So that’s when I get to eat a whole rack of barbecue ribs again?” He was only half-joking.

Renate laughed and shook her head, “For me it was pastries. As soon as I got home from Nagano, I went to my favorite bakery in Heerenveen and bought a whole boxful of them.”

Logan laughed with her, “Yeah, I like that stuff way too much too.”

“Like what way too much?” Meadow had just walked in on their conversation.

“Gebakjes,” Renate hugged Meadow. “Oh, and I ate oliebollen and speculaasstaaf on Christmas,” Renate cooed, grinning from ear to ear. She was in good spirits about her time spent back at home, as her father was now in remission and his health had rebounded beyond expectations.

“Ugh, stop talking about Dutch pastries,” Meadow crossed her arms and sulked, knowing there would be no big sweets or baked treats in her coming months of training.

Logan was lost. He didn’t understand a thing they were saying but it was amusing to hear them be human enough to get excited over some delicious and forbidden carbs that he had never heard of before.

He still felt uneasy around Meadow though, having been pretty confused about her since that night they went skating before winter break. He should never have agreed to go out to eat with her, it was too weird. As soon as she suggested it, he felt a wave of anxiety come over him, but Meadow insisted. Why did she order all that food? And that comment about my love handles? Was she trying to mess with my head?

He just didn’t know what to make of her split personality. In the mornings while training, she was tough, serious and straightforward, treating him mostly like a client with a goal. Occasionally they might joke around like friends, but she always strutted around the gym with confidence and didn’t seem afraid to dig in and show him how to do things her way.

Yet these moments of vulnerability would show up in her, where she seemed less assured and maybe a little timid. Like the way she was at Lake of the Isles... while she was skating on the ice, she was mostly that confident Meadow; but once her skates came off, she became hesitant, harder to relate to, and impossible to read.

Logan thought about her a lot over the holidays, which made him even crazier. The upshot was that every time her face popped in his head, his appetite vanished. He lost ten pounds over the holiday break, which was faster than he had ever lost weight before in his life.

For her part, Meadow had been agonizing about the way that night had ended. It was the last time they saw each other before she headed up to her parents for Christmas, and she obsessed over what went wrong throughout her entire time away. She tried so hard to be normal with him... or what she thought was normal anyway, but she was terrible at being normal, she knew that much. In fact, there was nothing normal about either one of them, nor the situation they were in.

In hindsight, the more she thought about it, things did get extra weird between them after she slipped up and grabbed onto one of his cute, chubby flanks. But was it that big of a deal? His body had belonged to teams and coaches for years. How could he possibly be that sensitive about the meager amount of fat left on his body? I even tried to compliment him, for crying out loud.

He had been so peculiar about eating dinner too. She tried to order healthy things for them to share, but he didn’t say or eat much of anything. Instead, he pushed for a quick end to the meal. What had started as a fun evening, ended with her feeling like she had been defeated. I don’t do friendships or dates, she reminded herself. Why did I let myself even start to think that way?

When she saw Logan again after their return from the break, Meadow was stunned to see how much more weight Logan had lost. She was truly torn up inside, not knowing what to say to him about it, or whether to just ignore it. How could she congratulate him? It was success to their whole plan, but she didn’t want to give him the message that she thought he was now a better or more attractive person. She couldn’t resolve these conflicting ideas in her head to save her life.

“It looks like you two are getting along more nicely,” Renate noticed that despite their recent clumsy mutual tension, things were generally more congenial between her two pupils than they had been when she left the country two months before.

Meadow looked at Logan and gave him a mock insulted face and then winked at him with a smirk. He feigned an offended look back at her, but couldn’t keep his straight face from softening to an amused smile. This playful, yet unspoken banter was some relief to both of them.

“Yes, this is good. We make more progress when we get along,” Renate acknowledged their obvious improved regard for each other.



Busy writing
May 8, 2006
“So, we are better friends?” Renate raised a suspicious eyebrow to Meadow once they were in the ladies locker room.

“Yeah,” Meadow said nonchalantly, trying to play it off like he didn’t matter to her that much, but it made her feel a little guilty because he mattered to her more than ever.

“Your face is different when you look at him now,” Renate paused with a curious smile. “Do you... like him?” Renate emphasized the word ‘like.’

Meadow just shrugged and looked away. She had no idea how to lie to Renate, so saying nothing at all was so much easier.

“He is looking so handsome,” Renate started to say with a sigh in her voice.

“I don’t care about that,” Meadow snapped back with impatience, hating the insinuation that Logan was suddenly dating material because he was now about fifty pounds lighter than when he’d first shown up in their lives last September.

“Why are you being so prickly about it then? You two seem to get on fine,” Renate was confused.

Meadow sighed, now unable to stop herself from spilling the news that they’d gotten together socially. “We went skating at Lake of the Isles last month, the Saturday before Christmas, just for fun.”

“What? Like a date?” Renate exclaimed, now with disbelief in her voice.

“No! Not quite like that,” Meadow tried to deny anything romantic, but she could feel her guilty face fighting a fine line between platonic friendship and the possibility of something more.

“Oh Meisje,” Renate’s eyes widened, clearly seeing the uncertainty in her tone.

“I mean, it was like, only hanging out, no big deal. But then we grabbed a bite to eat, and he started to seem really uncomfortable. It was weird...” she sputtered through the chronology of the evening. The confusion of it all had been rolling around inside her head for nearly a month now.

“He was probably afraid you were counting every calorie he consumed,” Renate suggested with a smirky grin, making light of his diet issues.

“No, I wasn’t though,” Meadow didn’t see the humor in it. “We went to that vegan place over on Lyndale; so nothing processed or greasy... I was offering him different things to try and he just got really quiet and distant. He told me he was tired… then he walked me back to my car and that was it,” Meadow reported the anti-climactic events. “It wasn’t a date at all, but it seemed to end really weird… I don’t know.”

“So he was tired... maybe cutting back on calories makes him cranky at night,” Renate grasped for more explanation.

“He doesn’t need to lose too much more, so I don’t know why he needs to cut back so much that it makes him cranky,” Meadow was now venting her frustration.

Renate just looked at Meadow blankly.

“I mean he’s got to eat something, he can’t train very well in starvation mode, you know that,” Meadow continued her rant. “I’ve never said anything at all about what and how he should eat anyway, so I don’t get it.”

“You of all people know how everything you put into your body affects competition, and he has a lot on the line right now,” Renate now seemed almost upset with Meadow. “We also know that he has a hard time shedding caloric intake, so stop being so sensitive about it.”

Meadow knew Renate was right, and that she was really venting frustration about something buried way deeper in her feelings for Logan. She had originally hoped that he would lose weight fast so he would become less attractive to her. She needed him to be the conceited jock asshole she expected him to be, making it easier to detach herself from any romantic feelings. But that plan backfired, and now she was falling for him, in spite of his leaner body, because he was a person she truly admired from the inside out.


Busy writing
May 8, 2006
One night after practice in late January, Coach Mike met with Logan.

“Man of Steel,” he patted Logan on the back.

Logan smiled humbly, wanting more than ever to put the whole red shirt episode behind him.

“I was a little skeptical myself that a woman’s speed skating coach was the answer for you, but I have to admit, Renate and her training team have really helped you shed the bulk and get your edge back,” Coach smiled triumphantly.

“She’s pretty good,” Logan admitted, deciding not to talk too much about Meadow’s influence too, as that was more complicated. He now had a whole new respect for both her sport and her gender, but he wasn’t going to elaborate on it with Coach Mike. It was always better not to say much and just nod when Coach was talking to you.

“I almost wish I could change the rules and get you into these games now,” Coach smiled, “In practice you’re performing even stronger than you did last year, before all this weight business got out of control. The way I’m seeing things right now, you keep this up and have a strong off-season, and you may be our best defensive weapon on the team going into next season.”

“The hip feels really good too, which helps,” Logan rubbed along his flexor, knowing full well that his injury was a bigger issue for him last year than his weight. His ‘summer run amok’ in Denver did him no favors, but he was realizing, especially with what he learned from Renate and Meadow, that the hours of chronic pedaling on the exercise bike to try to lose weight probably worsened his injury. And all that time, his weight issues became the scapegoat for injury-related performance issues. Deep down inside he seethed about it, but at least now he knew more about how to balance the demands on his body in a healthier way.

How Meadow had become so important to him he could hardly understand, but she had. It was pretty corny to admit out loud, but getting up in the morning was much easier these days because he looked forward to starting the day with her. Actually looking forward to early morning workouts was an incredibly new and odd feeling. But everything hurt less now too, and his body felt more resilient. His weight loss had to happen so he could compete again, that was an imperative; but that wasn’t what was making him feel happy. Meadow was making him feel happy.

The problem now was how to stop having feelings for her. No matter how much I like her, she doesn’t feel the same way. He still felt terrible about how their evening at Lake of the Isles went. Once the food showed up at the table he couldn’t eat in front of her. It was like an Abbey flashback all over again. Meadow wasn’t like Abbey though. Meadow all but praised his stupid, stubborn side fat, and then ordered a bunch of food, encouraging him to eat. Why the hell did I agree to go out with her afterwards? I was such a tool. But Logan didn’t know how to explain this to her. It was too personal, and too embarrassing.


With Nationals just two weeks away and another taper looming, Renate wanted Meadow to focus at the Oval on starting strategies. She asked Logan to skate alongside her, knowing that would push her a little farther. He happily agreed to assist, beginning to enjoy bundling up in layers of fleece and skating distances with her in the crisp winter air. It was definitely better than being holed up in a dreary gym.

With their gloved hands draped over the barrier, they awaited clean, glossy ice.

“Always waiting on the Zamboni,” he muttered, filling the quiet air with conversation.

“Ugh, yes, always,” she laughed.

“I’m sorry we were jerks to you at the Mariucci,” Logan turned to face her, still feeling badly about the way his teammates had objectified her a couple of years back.

“You don’t have to apologize. You never said anything to me,” Meadow sighed. “Although you did give me some pretty condescending looks when I’d try to ignore your friend.”

Logan felt guilty about that. He had remembered it well, but was still surprised she had too. He looked into her eyes and shook his head, “That was just protection.”

“Protection?” Meadow did not understand what he meant by that. Protection against what? What did a hockey jock like him need protection against?

“You know, all the cake eater stuff, the fat jokes, harsh comments from fans during games... all the shit I’ve taken... even the ‘pretty boy’ chirping,” he sputtered out, feeling like he owed her a little more honesty. “Acting like I’m above everything and everyone is how I sometimes get through that kind of crap. It became who I was for a while, and I guess I kind of did it to you too.”

“You really don’t have to apologize,” Meadow repeated, now feeling empathy for what he must have had to endure. She was touched by his openness about it too, as he clearly didn’t like to expose any weakness. “At least you have an excuse for it. I’m not even sure why I am the way I am.”

“The way you are?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I know I can be cold,” she almost whispered, kicking her skate up against the barrier, feeling her own guilt over how she had treated him last fall. “I’ve always just assumed that every guy is a big jerk until they prove me wrong.”

“Have I proven you wrong?” Logan gave her an uneasy smirk, only half wanting an honest answer, fearing a negative response.

Meadow smiled at him and nodded, “Yeah, I thought you were going to be horrible... a real prima donna hockey star jock.”

He smiled, shaking his head, “And here I just assumed you looked down on me for letting myself get so out of shape,” he admitted, now looking her in the eye.

Meadow just looked back into his eyes, not knowing what to say. She was thinking a million complicated things about what she felt about him: his body, his strength and resilience, but didn’t have the right words to convey them. “No-,” she started to choke out.

“Let’s go,” Renate came over, abruptly interrupting Meadow’s distressed plea, and sending them both out on the ice with no further conversation to be had on the subject.



Well-Known Member
Oct 6, 2005
I am with Xyantha... Not fair to leave such a cliff hanger. I will pouting now...
Great story. Very believable
Thank you


Library Girl
Staff member
Library Mod
Jun 21, 2008
And of all things you forgot Borstplaat - my very favorite Sinterklaas candy, resembles a kind of vanilla-caramelly or chocolaty maple candy ;) !

Great chapter, I love how convincing you portray navigating the insecurities and psychological pitfalls of young adulthood; how difficult growing out of the constraints of peer pressure is.


Aug 20, 2007
I've been lurking on this story and Ashley, you never fail to create amazing relationships and worlds. I love how convincingly their relationship evolves and all the little details and bits of back story we find out about these two SO. DAMN. MUCH.
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