In my effort to regain my previous level of strength and cardio-vascular health, I realized that I had neglected the dreaded spin class. I had the excuse of Josh's swim class during one of the classes I had attended previously and now I have Bubbles (the trainer) during the other. Oh well. Right? Wrong. I knew that I had to re-enter the wonderful world of spin eventually, (I mean those 11 miles on next years triathlon aren't going to get any shorter!) so when Bubbles told me that the posh club was adding another spin class on Saturday mornings and that she would be the teacher, I decided it was fate. Naturally the class is held at the ungodly hour of 7AM. Normally at 7 in the morning I am trying to use my psychic powers to float myself over to the bathroom so I can start the day. This morning was different, I had the alarm set for 6 and when it went off I jumped out of bed, located the sound which entered my dreams with the subtlety of bullet hail from a gatling gun. (The fastest automatic weapon there is, thank you Evan for that helpful tidbit of gun trivia) Then I limped into the bathroom and sat on the can and tried to psychically will myself into my gym clothes. Needless to say, I need assistance in the psychic department or maybe even a more realistic morning plan.
I made it to the class, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, and dropped my stuff onto my favorite bike. I left the rest of my stuff in the locker room and when I returned to the spin room a very sweet woman I know from around the schools was sitting on the bike besides mine. I was happy since she seemed unlikely to have B.O., be a profuse sweater, or be a distracting grunter. Hey, you have to choose your spin mates carefully! I don't want to be in anyone's scent or spray zone, and I definitely don't want to hear them making sex noises while I pretend to climb a hill.
The lady I know from around and I remarked to each other, and to Bubbles who was busy setting up her bike, how many men were in the class with us. We were both used to the SAHM crowd during the day in the middle of the week and had never seen so many hairy legs all lined up in the spin room before. Well, just as Bubbles was going to start the hairiest of the legs spoke up and said to Bubbles "There are so many men in here because last week they were all talking about how HOT you are."
Bubbles froze.
Bubbles remained frozen.
Nobody moved.
Bubbles forced a smile.
Bubbles started up class.
And she gave us a great class. Well, the other people thought it was a great class, I mostly thought "How the hell do her legs move that fast? I can't believe what that guy said. She looks like the road runner! Did he really say HOT? Could he have said HARD? I can't even see her legs! That man has to be stopped, he can't say things like that. My legs hurt. What a pig that guy is. Her legs are an actual circle of blur! Look at those legs. She is animated! I am going say something to that man. I wonder if Bubbles still has circulation in those legs." Yeah, remember me? I am the turtle of the human race, slow but steady, and Bubbles was from some other speedy hare tribe that my tribe of turtles did not ever breed with, and the reason for that is simple it is because we - couldn't - catch - them. Now I fear I might have to stop making excuses and find my way back to one of the other slower paced spin classes.
So, anyway, after the class, I moseyed over to the guy and I said "You owe Bubbles an apology. You didn't say she was tough, or great, or could run circles around you, you said she was hot and if you worked with her right now she would be filing a sexual harassment suit against you." And the guy said "You're right." I was so shocked I just turned and tip toed out of the room and I don't know if he did apologize to her or not.
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