The Perfect Response

I finally found a spin bike that fits my frame, doesn't hurt my butt, and lets me feel safe.  I rode one morning, Fox News on the personal tv to get my blood going.  There are no toe clips on this bike; I have to concentrate on the upstroke in order to keep the ball of my foot on the pedal. On the downstroke, I have to remind my right knee that it has no business traveling off the mid-line.

Up and down, around and around, I was focused on feeling the bone moving in the socket.  The synovial fluid loosens up and starts to flow, blood nourishes the muscle, and real work begins to happen.  I was happily considering the delicious warmth in my hip when a friend stopped by.

Normally, I wouldn't take out my earphones.  I'd smile and wave and go back to my routine.  Serious gym rats understand and appreciate that; it's not rudeness, it's dedication to the workout.  But for her, I made an exception.

She's a world class athlete, an age group champion (more than once), and the leanest woman I know.  Her muscles are right there, proud and strong, and she's always been more than generous in sharing how she got them.  We met before I was shot, over the squat bar.  We've shared family stories and hairstylist recommendations.  It's never going to be more than a gym rat relationship, and that's perfectly okay with both of us.  What it is is quite enough.  She's a Before And After person; that makes her special, too.

So, when she stopped, I did too.  We hugged, sweatily, and updated our workout status.  She wondered about the bike, I told her I finally felt safe and comfortable on one and her response was perfect:  That's Great!

She didn't offer suggestions.  She didn't ask why I chose that configuration versus one that would more nearly approximate true bicycling, using the muscle to its utmost, making the most of my time (I had TBG for that when I got home).  She was thrilled that I was accomplishing something new, that I was moving, that I didn't hurt.

Then I put in my earphone, she hoisted her gym bag, and we waved goodbye.  She told me I inspired her.  I told her she gave me confidence.  Two perfect responses, two happy women, one lovely Father's Day morning.