Spin Class and Other Near-Death Experiences
It is no secret that staying active is important for senior citizens. Personally, I have it on my calendar to either be at the gym or play golf at least six days a week (Notice I said “on the calendar”). However, these activities don’t necessarily prepare you for a strong aerobic exercise event. And that’s where my story begins.
Yesterday a spin class instructor acquaintance of mine invited me to participate in her 7:00 AM class for the following day. Not having sat on a bicycle seat in years, much less attend a spin class, I was a little hesitant and quickly brought up my super heavy schedule in a subtle attempt to not look like a pansy. But the quirky smile on her face told me she saw right through my excuses. I walked away feeling slightly ashamed of my whimpey self. As the day progressed and slid into evening hours conviction continued to grow like green mold on two-month-old bread. By bedtime, I reluctantly instructed Siri to turn on my 5:30 alarm.
A loud piercing beep jolted me from my sleep. It took me a moment to realize I was being summoned to fulfill the commitment I made to myself when I set that darn alarm.
It is 6:45. There I sit in the parking lot watching rain drops fall and splatter on my windshield reminding me of how I will look 20 minutes into the class if I pass out and fall off that bike.
I keep reminding myself “Hey, it’s just 45 minutes; how bad can it be?” I’m in decent shape. I walk my dog every day (he mostly walks me), play golf several times a week (riding in a cart), and do some strength training at the gym (which requires very little cardio).
In I go. And there is Amy to greet me. Her smile and welcome seem genuine, but I swear there was sadistic moment when her expression said, “Sucker, your mine now”. That part is probably not true, but emotions override logic as fear sets in.
She kindly shows me how to adjust the seat and handlebars to my comfort level. I watch as all the seemingly experts climb into their saddles like seasoned cowboys. I’ve forgotten how hard and uncomfortable bike seats can be. About ten minutes into it, I’m thinking a KGB interrogation with water boarding might be more to my choosing. Fortunately, much of the session requires you to stand and pedal.
Finally, 45 minutes pass and I am still sucking air from an upright position. I’m relieved that CPR was not required.
Amy (I use her real name because doxing may be justified given the level of anxiety I experienced) walks over and congratulates me (I think for not dying during her class). We laugh and I’m encouraged to come back and try it again.
OK, maybe I exaggerated a bit; it wasn’t all that bad. I even managed to hit the gym afterward for some additional leg exercises and then humbly stumbled out to my truck (with the help of a couple of gym staff). Moral of the story: Stop making excuses and put yourself out there. Good chance you’ll live to see another day! Thanks Amy for the invite.
