I decided to get my “biking” for the week done today. Of course that’s in quotation marks because it’s January in Montana, which means that it sucks outside. This year I think I heard we’re setting actual records for how much it sucks outside; there is no one on a bike, biking. (You would think it would stop the runners, too, but nothing ever seems to stop the runners.)
Anyway, we have a whole room full of spinning bikes at the gym. At first I was going to go to an actual spin class, but M.H. talked me out of it. I believe his exact words were: “I don’t want you spending an hour in there getting yelled at and then have you come home and start yelling at me.” Oh, yeah.
So I hit the gym when the spinning room was quiet and dark. And locked. Say what?! I thought, It’s just like this stupid gym to make the spinning room off limits unless you’re taking part in an official class. Outrage! Of course I would never take it out on the front-desk workers, though. So I went up there to politely inquire about it and, in summary, the door to the spinning room opens inward.
That’s right. Biking today hurt a LOT.
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