Tomorrow, Saturday will mark a year on my weight loss journey with BKM. I’ve had a really good week, food consumption and workout wise. So, when when I got to spin class I was looking forward to a good workout, secretly thanking God that Briant wasn’t teaching. I just didn’t want to be in MANIC workout mode. Great burn would suffice. I wanted a good sweat just slightly out of my comfort zone but not crazy. That was my plan.
Ava shouts in my direction, “Montrice you been slackin’ but we gettin’ it in today!” Big Truck raised his eyebrows and under his breath, “I think she just called you out.” I shrugged.
Diane, the spin instructor bounces in with way too much energy for me. She was ready and all over the place. The class was packed but that was normal. I was on my bike draped in clothes that were too big; workout capris that were hitting me at the ankle and a once too snug tee that was floating all around me. Great feeling. Looked awful. I was trying to hold out on buying new clothes until the weather changed. I settled in on my bike babying the blister born from 40 second sprints. I could hear Ava, already trash talking and the warm up wasn’t even over.
Ava was checking, making sure I was getting the most out of this session. Diane would call for sprints. Sometimes I would do them and sometimes I wouldn’t. When I didn’t, Ms. Ava was calling my name, “Come on Montrice, whatcha doing? We got this.” Sometimes I would hear her and get with it and sometimes I would ignore her. So when she put up her church finger and got off her bike, I thought maybe a pedal broke.
Of course not! Ava lefts up her bike, which is quite heavy. She wheels it over to where I am spinning and places it directly in front of me! Oh my God!! Who does this type of stuff? What the..? She gets back on her back, “You couldn’t seem to hear me from across the room.” I was half laughing and half outdone. She was refusing to be ignored. I hated it and loved her for it. She was now a mirror image that was prodding me for more, faster, stronger. Diane called for a 15 second sprint. In between my breathless counting Ava was shouting my name. My face rained sweat enlarging the puddles underneath me. For the most part, I matched her rotations slowing a bit when I just couldn’t take anymore. She would pick up on the slightest decrease in speed every time. “Montrice!”
For the rest of the class I imitated her movements. I looked up on the platform and Big Truck was smiling, nodding and giving a fist pump. Did Briant put her up to this? Whatever the case, it was why I loved my gym. No man left behind. Your struggle is my struggle, your journey my journey. The support, even unsolicited is phenomenal!
People have been known to achieve more as a result of working with others than against them.