If You Don’t Write About Going to the Gym… Did You Really Go?

Ghost whispers across various electronic mediums, "If you don’t write about going to the gym… did you really go?"

I have no time for her metaphysical bullshit. Ghost's question is similar to, "If Helen Keller fell in the woods, would there be a sound?" and easy to answer in both cases. The answer is no.

I'm pondering far greater mysteries at the moment, like why are "they" constructing a portal into the gym next to my "safe space"?

Am I not giving enough? Am I to exercise even MORE?! I suspect my wife's hand in this, it has her 'touch' all over it. Its eerie and would be alarming except LT is distracting me from my deep, deep thoughts with further commands, "pick it UP!"

She's amusing herself by constructing imaginary hills for us to ascend, "Imagine (and you can tell she doesn't believe for a second that we can imagine the awesome hill she's envisioning filled with unicorns and smurfs) a series of medium hills that are all ... mediumy and well medium is what I'm going with!"

She grins wildly at us, daring us not to believe that medium exists.

On my medium hill of mediumness I'm being ridden down by enraged smurfs riding the backs of apoplectic unicorns all because I might have eaten a smurf. I find it difficult to refute their claims given the evidence.

I pick up my cadence hoping I don't puke up smurf all over the bike and grossing out the class. I'm sorry about the stupid smurf but I'm not about to be impaled by Rainbow Unicorn.

My mind drifts to sadder things. LT has decided to further her experiments on the human body by moving the spin class into a racketball court, something about wanting us to get closer to the circle of hell she calls her spin home, "You'll find it more immersive." No more airy basketball court, no more smurfs (don't worry, I'll have hunted them to extinction by then) just pandemonium.

I grin in appreciation. How can you not adore LT? I honestly can't wait to experience this class (by next Friday she'll have all the kinks worked out I'm sure!).

Envision five or six adults pounding pedals, music blaring, heat from a contained room, reverb from acoustically unforgiving walls, shouted commands mixing in with previously shouted commands ...

Chaos.

This should be a blast!!!

And class is over, drat. I check my stats from this app called HeartWatch.

You can clearly see my Smurfy Hills of Mediumness and the gaps in the heart rate where LT tried to kill me ...

It's Friday and we all know what's fun thanks to Kristin Ritter!!! Enjoy your weekend!