The line on Borska is, that here is a spin instructor after my own heart with a musical taste not exactly akin to mine but it’s, well close enough. When he erupted with “Touch Me” by the Doors I had another one of my episodes of taking my effort beyond by lung capacity. It didn’t matter because that particular song was wrapped with the memory of my sister who perished at 16, and used to kid me about my abhorrent singing capabilities in the shower. Indeed as I get deeper into spin the hour throttles by like a Shanghai train on the way to the airport and although I am always soaked head to foot I am actually thinking about doing a two session day once a week. I know, I have lost my marbles but when you’re having fun kicking your own ass something takes hold of your senses and just wants more of this space trip I started almost 8 months ago.
Mike has his own style and like all of our instructors, they have a certain degree of intimacy, except with Mike it’s coming from a father figure, with a knowing only a middle aged man can portray. There is no mistaking how technically adroit Mike is, and yet he does it with the jargon of the common man. And though I never get lost with the other pro’s, he speaks a language that reaches my soul like Robin Hood’s arrow at 40 paces.
Taking the Borska Express, it leaves Wednesdays at 8:30 AM.
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