My spin class is 1) a fantastic workout 2) time with Trimom and 3) a little family all its own. Our instructor, Kim, is a unique personality; off the bike she’s super nice with a wicked sense of humor, but on the bike, she’s Mussolini. She has a reputation for being a yeller, and she puts together some tough rides. Because of all that, her class is very popular, and her regulars (including Trimom and me) always fill up her class right away. We’re an odd phenomenon; we hardly ever see each other outside the Y, but for an hour every Wednesday, we’re tight. Tonight was the last class of the spring session, and I won’t go in the summer. I’d rather be on my bike out on the road. But I wanted to go tonight, mostly for one reason.
I wanted to show off.
I wanted to show off my fitness level, I wanted to show off my slimmer bod, I wanted to show off my tri readiness.
It made me think about recognition. Am I doing all this so someone pats me on the back and tells me I did well? I’ve invited my parents (and in-laws) to watch me finish my first tri, I love to tell people about my workouts, I started this blog to tell more people about my workouts. I’m beginning to worry I forgot who I was doing this for.
I’m doing it for me.
And yes, I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished so far, and yes, I enjoy being validated. But every stroke, every pedal, every step is for me and me alone. I’m excited to share it with Trimom and my daughters and my extended family and friends and even those who read this self-indulgent journal. But at the end of the day, I’m doing it for me.
That doesn’t mean it didn’t feel good when Kim announced to the class that I’d lost over 60 pounds.
It was a good spin. The class is supposed to go for an hour, but she had us go an hour-fifteen, with 1-1 intervals and crazy hills. I stuck with her the whole way, something I couldn’t have done six months ago.
I also swam this morning; 1200 meters in 32 minutes. I’m not the fastest swimmer, but I feel confident I’ll come out of Elkhart Lake with lots of gas left in the tank. That’s the goal.