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My excessive energy, extreme narcissism, and intense love of neon-colored spandex is both managed and fueled by my addiction to fitness. I push myself to extremes and I push other people's buttons. Obviously I needed my own blog.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011


At 7:30 this morning I had the privilege of clipping my cycling shoes into bike #9 at Roslyn to spend forty-five quality minutes with Tripp Doherty and my fellow cyclists. Today Tripp told us that during these forty-five minutes, we should think about our lives and our goals, that we should feel like we're at a disco, that we're experiencing the worst time of our lives, and the best time of our lives. During those forty-five minutes we should live an entire life. He also reminded us to live in the moment, and that tomorrow is an eternity away, that today is what matters. (In case you were wondering why my punctuation seems to go to hell in a handbasket whenever I quote Tripp, it's because I am trying to be true to the words of a man who is simultaneously cycling at level 7 or jumping around the room. I'm having trouble reconciling my grammar-obsessed childhood with desire to authentically record what moved me.)

I have a real problem with living in the moment. I have always been a tomorrow, or one day person. One day, maybe tomorrow, I will look the way I want to look. Or one day, maybe tomorrow, I will do the things I want to do. One day, maybe tomorrow, I will have everything I have always wanted to have. One days and tomorrows have let me avoid taking inventory of my life for years, but that has begun to change. In particular, I have realized how many "one day, maybe tomorrow" friendships and relationships I have had. If you suck today, you'll probably suck tomorrow, and I'm not waiting around to find out.

Tripp encourages us to work through our feelings during class. He has psychologists and psychiatrists in his classes that say they are able to work through things better during that time than any other. I think that I am a self-aware person (perhaps painfully so?,) but I am not one who handles feelings particularly well. There is something about pushing your body to do things you would think are physically impossible that allows you to tap into emotions you didn't know you had. For instance, after pushing through the last four minutes of class at a level 8, out in 3, thinking that my legs might burst like grapes at any moment, I found myself yelling (most likely silently) "Why don't you love me?" into the towels on my handlebars. I think I might have some issues to sort out during spin-disco-psychotherapy.

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