Each spinning class is a new adventure. It’s never the same even though we don’t go anywhere. The plot between our ears is always in Technicolor and today it was in Cinerama. (Maybe you’re too young to know what that is.)
I could see my own character development starting to unfold as well. I wasn’t holding back because my gas gauge was broke. I knew that I had enough in the tank, and if I ran out of fuel I could still call upon impulse power to finish in a flourish.
KG can see how much ‘road’ we have on our bikes which I had not even considered and it surprised me to hear her say “John back off on your resistance”. A silent affirmation that I was kicking my own ass. Why did I doubt it so? I have enough sports hernias to attest to that.
A loquacious man am I but for these 45 minutes I utter nary a word except for a few smiles and a plethora of pained expressions. But through it all I think I have left the main hall of aerobic machines for the sauna of the cycling studio.
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