Ever Since High School

The thing about Diane B.’s class is: it’s  a little like high school. All the cool kids know each other by name. And they talk about things that happen outside of class: people they know, tail gate party incidents, etc. And Diane B. is up there like some Amazon, her six-foot frame spinning away and calling cadence and ordering resistance changes while all this inside shit is going on.

“Carl, I saw you got a new car,” she says into her headset mike, “how much did it cost?”

Too much,” replies Carl with a laugh.

“I can’t hear the music over the sound of Carl’s ego!” calls Jackie from the corner.

“Teacher, Jackie’s picking on me,” Carl calls in reply.

And all the while, the music is pounding, and we’re up and down in time, pushing and pedaling, sweating and breathing heavy. The verbal interplay darts around us like flies.

Wish I could catch more of Diane B.’s Wednesday and Friday class. But I leave after only a half hour to get to work on time.  This morning, I actually made it through all of the Us vs. Them standing drills. Because she squeezed them into the first half hour. Usually, she starts those drills at 6:40.  Had to blow my nose for the last fifteen minutes of class, but I didn’t dismount. No wasting time for clear breathing when there’s only a half hour available to work out.

One nice thing about a class that starts before dawn is: no worry entrance. You can breeze in 10 minutes before class time and get a pass at the front desk.

So, I got a half hour in today.  Better than I’ll do tomorrow. No dawn patrol or after work classes on Saturday. Guess I’ll have to get to Imperial on time Sunday. For a change.


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