Move, move, pedal, push. I glared up at her, sweat dripping off my nose, my palms gripping the handle bars. Evil I thought, pure evil. She barked at us, pushing us harder. I was barely breathing, hanging on and then…she let us rest. And then, we did it again. And again, and Again.
You would think this sort of torture would be unpopular, but week after week, we pile into her class, laden with bikes. Stationary bikes mind you, we were not being taken anywhere or given anything other than very sore back sides. All the same, every Friday, 20 minutes before the ride began, a line formed to sign up for a spot to be worked over. I used to think it was Friday that brought out the crowds; no it must be the music, hip, with a very strong beat, easy to push to. Now I know, it’s just Theresa. Sitting at the front with broad strong shoulders, she drives us with brutal wit. She might yell at you if you leave early or come late or for taking some one else’s spot; she will definitely throw off comments at you while you struggle. But in the end, she has a keen talent to bring out your inner drive, leading you to push yourself to, well, exhaustion, but in a “now I deserve that big bowl of icecream” kind of way. And, she makes me feel strong, very important for a woman.
Every Friday morning, I rush over to the gym 30 minutes before class starts to secure my spot. I always sit dead center, second row. I never sit in the front, those were the real bikers. There is one woman in particular, a front liner, that I have often admired and tried to keep pace with. A tall, slender woman with a very graceful stride and a beautifully strong face. I have never spoken to her, but always take note of her speed and agility. You may laugh, agility, on a stationary bike, but yes, even there, some of us bob around and waste energy with poor mechanics, not her. She is in terrific shape and has the natural athletic build that many women spend hours at the gym trying to achieve and never will. Now, I do not have an infatuation with her, but 45 min on a stationary bike leaves you little to look at, and women being women, notice all these things. Besides, she wears white bike shorts, I mean, who can wear white bike shorts. And, in summation, she is seemingly friends with Theresa, so she must by association be cool.
She looked hip, slender and stylish as usual today. Completed the class with the usual speed. And then, as the class ended, Theresa announced that this woman would be having a double mastectomy. A young mother of two, now faced with breast cancer.
I didn’t hear this shocking news myself. I had snuck out of class just as we were ending to rush to another appointment. A friend, moved by the announcement, phoned me to let me know. I do not know this woman, but somehow, it left me very sad. I didn’t say much at the time, but later, over my hummus sandwich, I broke down and cried, and no, it wasn’t the hummus sandwich.
Why does someone so strong and beautiful have to face such trials, when others just give away their lives with such carelessness? I reflected on my frivolous shallow thoughts of this woman and how I had surmised that she had it all together and was riding “on top” . I thanked God for my own health and strong body. I thanked him for my days with my own children and husband. And I thanked Theresa for giving us the kind of motivation to get through a spin class, but perhaps also a challenge such as this.
