Try-athalon - March 12, 2017
Two mornings a week I do a “try-athalon.” I “run” for 40 minutes, I “spin” for 50 minutes, and I “swim” for 30 minutes.
You may be wondering why I am using an excessive number of quotation marks. If you saw me “running,” you would know that what I really do is “jog-walk” – and that my fast walk is as fast (or as slow as) my jog-walk.
If you saw me “swimming,” you would know that I have floating fins that are almost as tall as I am. Without them, my legs sink to the bottom and I thrash around a lot, but I don’t get very far.
But I was really happy with my “spin” on Thursday. Almost proud. “Spin” is indoor cycling on a stationary bike. I “do” a Les Mills program at Good Life called “RPM.” It is always led by an enthusiastic and heartwarming instructor.
I confess, as with my running and swimming, when I first starting spinning, I nearly gave up. After the first few classes I was pretty much in tears. I could not put the tension on my bike that the leader seemed to be encouraging. And my legs, like the rest of me, don’t go very fast. If there was a “Slow Exercise” movement, I could co-lead it – from behind, of course.
Thankfully, a beautiful friend who used to race old horses, assured me, “To finish is to win.” So, I reduced my tension, accepted my slower pace, and now I don’t feel complete if I haven’t done two classes a week. True story.
Back to Thursday. We did RPM 69. If you are a spin buff, you will know that this is a very challenging release. It has a lot of something called “surges” – go from racing fast, to racing faster. Me, it simply helps to keep me from slowing down from a pace that is pretty leisurely to begin with. Ah well.
Normally, I’m in the front row but this day the bikes in the front were already taken, so I ended up on a bike in the second row. After the class, I walked back – head held high and shoulders back with almost-pride - to get a sprayed-down towel to wipe my bike off with. I passed by a lad, about my age, who always rides at the back and therefore usually cannot see me. But this time he was riding almost beside me. He asked, “Are you all right?! You are bright red and you were hardly moving at all!”
Booooooooo! Normally, I would have given an apologetic account of myself. What I’d already done that day to try to make a small part of the world a better place. But that day, I didn’t. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t want to be late for BodyPump. I just said, “I’m fine. That’s how I always ride.” (True that.)
But man oh man, was I “enthusiastic” (ok, red-hot mad) in my weightlifting class! No surprise, I am not a heavy lifter or a fast push-upper. But those donuts on the end of my bar got the ride of their life, and my gal push-ups generated enough steam to power a locomotive.
And now, thinking back with a cooler head, I expect this lad was just expressing concern for me. And I should have said, “Thank you for caring!” But instead, today, I’m saying, “Thank you for a good story.” Or, at least, (not wanting to be prideful,) good enough.
As David Patchell-Evans, founder and CEO of GoodLife Fitness Clubs, puts it: "Good enough is good enough".
You may be wondering why I am using an excessive number of quotation marks. If you saw me “running,” you would know that what I really do is “jog-walk” – and that my fast walk is as fast (or as slow as) my jog-walk.
If you saw me “swimming,” you would know that I have floating fins that are almost as tall as I am. Without them, my legs sink to the bottom and I thrash around a lot, but I don’t get very far.
But I was really happy with my “spin” on Thursday. Almost proud. “Spin” is indoor cycling on a stationary bike. I “do” a Les Mills program at Good Life called “RPM.” It is always led by an enthusiastic and heartwarming instructor.
I confess, as with my running and swimming, when I first starting spinning, I nearly gave up. After the first few classes I was pretty much in tears. I could not put the tension on my bike that the leader seemed to be encouraging. And my legs, like the rest of me, don’t go very fast. If there was a “Slow Exercise” movement, I could co-lead it – from behind, of course.
Thankfully, a beautiful friend who used to race old horses, assured me, “To finish is to win.” So, I reduced my tension, accepted my slower pace, and now I don’t feel complete if I haven’t done two classes a week. True story.
Back to Thursday. We did RPM 69. If you are a spin buff, you will know that this is a very challenging release. It has a lot of something called “surges” – go from racing fast, to racing faster. Me, it simply helps to keep me from slowing down from a pace that is pretty leisurely to begin with. Ah well.
Normally, I’m in the front row but this day the bikes in the front were already taken, so I ended up on a bike in the second row. After the class, I walked back – head held high and shoulders back with almost-pride - to get a sprayed-down towel to wipe my bike off with. I passed by a lad, about my age, who always rides at the back and therefore usually cannot see me. But this time he was riding almost beside me. He asked, “Are you all right?! You are bright red and you were hardly moving at all!”
Booooooooo! Normally, I would have given an apologetic account of myself. What I’d already done that day to try to make a small part of the world a better place. But that day, I didn’t. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t want to be late for BodyPump. I just said, “I’m fine. That’s how I always ride.” (True that.)
But man oh man, was I “enthusiastic” (ok, red-hot mad) in my weightlifting class! No surprise, I am not a heavy lifter or a fast push-upper. But those donuts on the end of my bar got the ride of their life, and my gal push-ups generated enough steam to power a locomotive.
And now, thinking back with a cooler head, I expect this lad was just expressing concern for me. And I should have said, “Thank you for caring!” But instead, today, I’m saying, “Thank you for a good story.” Or, at least, (not wanting to be prideful,) good enough.
As David Patchell-Evans, founder and CEO of GoodLife Fitness Clubs, puts it: "Good enough is good enough".