Wednesday, April 3, 2013

My very first (and last) cycling class.

I was sitting on a bike in cycling class the other night, when I realized- I will never be the kind of person who voluntarily goes to a cycling class.

"Turn it up one full turn! One full turn!"

I smiled grimly at the blond, ponytailed drill sergeant screaming at us, and turned it down a notch. Because she needs to just calm down.

Kurt turned to me, exhilarated. "Isn't this awesome??"

I stared back in disbelief. And turned it down another notch.

"Position 3!! Position 3!!"

I stood up with the rest of the class, sweat dripping down my neck. I looked around the room, realizing that I was pedaling about half as fast as they were, and- "you know what? I'm over it," I thought to myself.

Then I stepped off my bike, and back into happiness.

"I can tell if you are cheating!!" I heard her scream as I smiled apologetically at Kurt, and walked out the door to go spy on my baby in the daycare.

The smile was a lie. I wasn't feeling apologetic at all.

I felt invigorated.

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