Dark December

Today I avoided the scrutiny of Interpol at Roslyn and decided to make an unscheduled trip with Tripp.  Well I unscrewed my head and brain at the glass doors and left it on the back window shelf of the CS.  Every once in awhile I would check back and take a look seeing the eyes rolled back in my head and my mouth was moving but the words were indiscernible. I had decided that I would let the “Terminator” in me conduct the spin with Tripp today and by the end of the session I was so glad I did.

The music he chose today had me out of my mind in a good way because if he was a DJ he didn’t go to any Ivy League school I knew about. The musical mix seemed like crashing cars but it all seemed to work in a rhythmic fashion as only Mr. Mayhem could deliver. When he jumps off and on the bike and he raises his arms seemingly praising the Almighty he makes me crazy as I see the whites of his eyes signaling another ferocious attack on the pedal stroke.   When he played “Stomp” near the end of the session I needed both hands to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest.  The adrenaline rush was something I had not experienced since my last experience with Mr. Mayhem and before that leaping off the top step at Metro when Disco was King.  Anyway Tripp put me back on my heels when he followed “Stomp” with Doris Day and “Que Sera, Sera” in the cool down. Who does that? NO ONE!  He blew my mind.  The energy again was palpable in this class and I found myself shouting and doing the Svengali salute right hand in a fist, slammed to chest and then flexed forward. 

On that note I thought I would add something to our blog if it were all right with all of you. I will add a You Tube link to some of the tunes we hear each day as it might get us revved up for our next session. As if we needed more incentive.

Debbie in #12 with the Nadia Comaneci physiology provided me with enough incentive when the shoes I was wearing were giving me a bit of discomfort.  Debbie dontcha know is in phenomenal shape and because she had her well-defined left calf exposed to my line of sight it provided me with the focus to get over “My Bridge Over Troubled Waters”. 

My spin shoes turned up missing today and I knew they had to be here because I don’t go fetch bagels or cream cheese with them on, and so I was sentenced to my running shoes and those awkward toe box cages. I made do lamenting about my lost shoes but as I headed for the showers I started a confab with a member named Mike and because of that conversation I spied my shoes under the bench where I had left them after Carolyn’s (TBS) class on Sunday.  I thanked Mike.  I will never again take my shoes for granted because the freedom of movement they provide is unmistakable. My sneakers kept hitting the pedal flange putting me off Svengali’s rhythm. 

P.S.

I had some feedback from Tripp that I will mention only once and then I intend to move on and not mention it again. Some readers took umbrage to my entry: My Wood Was Wet.  I have to admit that I was crushed at first to hear that people were upset, and that they took this title to have a sexual undertone to it.  First off I am a writer and not everyone will like what I write and I can accept that. Secondly, I did not make a sexual reference even though some of my readers inferred that I did. If you read the full article you would hopefully be able to discern that. Be that as it may if you have comments direct them to me not anyone else because I am the writer and Tripp is in no way responsible for what I write. I want to face the music always so play it for me not anyone else.