It has been my experience that every person needs a squad. Your…
It’s no secret that I love my gym friends/family and I miss them terribly. It’s also no secret that I love to spin. I miss (my) bike #16 and I hope he knows I didn’t abandon him by choice. My heart and soul have been heavy, and my body is changing.
There is no shame in the struggle.
Like so many of us, I struggle with health and financial worries. I mourn the lives lost and the families impacted by COVID, and the irreversible impression this is having on our children. From kindergarteners missing story and nap time, to the college athletes robbed of their season, their team camaraderie, and the joy of that passion, I empathize with them regrettably have little to offer.
The airwaves are overflowing with updates on infection, death, and unemployment. Very little is said with a positive twist or options for an outlet to release the stress. I try to blog about silliness, food, and fun. I wrote a post, Can’t we just tell each other the truth? on April 30th and the response was remarkable. My heart was happy that the written word may alleviate the absence of a hug. And not to be arrogant, but I think I am one hell of a hugger.
Did someone say I can spin?
Self-soothing comes in many forms. The stars aligned on Thursday morning with a little help from Mama Jo, Jaime, Heather, and Maddie. The spin bikes came outside to play, all 24 of them and they did not disappoint.
My car remembered the way to Crunch Fitness (Schenectady) and when I rounded the corner and saw that orange awning, I damn near cried.
I pulled up and even with the masks, I saw the smiles from everyone. Temperatures were taken. Forms were filled out and the smell of sanitizer, for once, was a welcoming scent.
I was assigned to bike #18 and I hoped bike #16 was well cared for. I began to set the stage and prepare for a long overdue sweat fest:
- Water bottles
- Paper towel
- Spin shoes set carefully by the pedals
The familiar sound of Joanne’s voice booming of a 5-minute warning had me pick up the pace and soon I was clipped in.
My body was remembering…
It all came back. The exhilaration of the first sweat bead, the increase in heart rate, and the power of turning that little red knob…. stronger, harder, and back in the saddle. My heart and soul began to soar. That may sound trite and cheesy but to all your endorphin freaks like me- you just nodded in agreement. I saw it.
So while my booty and my girlie parts are remembering that little reminder that a new rider feels, possibly for a few days, this girl is smiling and cannot wait to saddle up again with the best instructors and riders anyone could wish for.
So, on this Sunday morning, take a moment to thank someone who makes you feel better, chuckle a little laugh, or sent you a text with a crazy picture. As I said at the end of the blog post in April:
There are two chairs in front of my house.
I will move them 6-feet apart and don my mask. We can share a cup of coffee or just kibitz about the family, the pizza we made Friday night, or a new cocktail you tried that was just outrageous.
Do not close your door, your mind, or your heart. I have not. We can be safe and be human. So when I ask you, “How are you?”, if you feel so inclined, tell me the truth and know that the available chair near my front door is open if you would like to visit.
Thank you Crunch Fitness for getting me my mojo back!