With the world apparently spinning out of control, I thought I might as well join the dizzying ride on an indoor bicycle.
My wife is a spin class veteran and certified instructor, and until recently, I was a conscientious objector. By that I mean that my conscience told me that I would probably throw up should I ever try spinning, and I object to throwing up. But as any good husband I listen to my wife more than I do my conscience, so recently I suppressed my fears and went to spin class.
It was actually pretty good. Not only did I survive, but after several weeks now, I sort of like spinning. No throwing up (yet), so that helps. The workout is good, and the music is fun, and best of all it is great to do this with my sweet wife. She is way better than me at spinning, but she is kind and does not rub it in.
I do have one complaint. I am one of few men in the class, and although my wife claims that the seat of a spin bike is not friendly to the female anatomy either, it is quite clear that it is designed to inflict the ultimate degree of discomfort to members of the male species. I am given two messages in response, neither of which is comforting. The first is not to sit down very often, but no one has given this message to our instructor, Ashley, who is fond of the “up two, down two” maneuver that is the absolute worst for someone trying to avoid the sitting procedure. And second, I am told that you get tougher “down there” with time. I will preserve the anonymity of a male friend who responded to such a statement by saying that he has no interest in getting “tougher” in such a region. I concur.
But I am returning week after week and plan to keep doing so. I enjoy being amazed by my wife and doing my best to respond to Ashley’s pleading face encouraging us to climb those imaginary hills. And who knows, maybe someday I will recognize the difference between Imagine Dragons and Bruno Mars and possibly even get “tough” enough for that blasted seat.
It turns out that my original fears were unfounded. They so often are.
On Wednesday evening I will join several friends to present Jesus, Malibu, and the Immigrant at Pepperdine. The event will focus on the Malibu Community Labor Exchange and discuss its work in the context of a Christian worldview of immigration and current political debates about immigration in the United States. It should be a fascinating evening.
Our youngest daughter started middle school when we moved from Mississippi to Malibu in 2008 and needed certain shots to enroll in school, (make up your own jokes friends from Mississippi and California, but be nice!) so we went to a local urgent-care facility and waited. There in the waiting room I met a super-friendly Pepperdine student who was the incoming president of the College Republicans at Seaver College. He excitedly shared with me his plan to place a large American flag on the magnificent front lawn of Pepperdine University for every life lost in the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001. He said it was going to be awesome. I was impressed by both his initiative and enthusiasm.
It is a big day. My office sits in the heart of Pepperdine University’s main campus in Malibu, and today is the first day of classes for undergraduate students. Next door to my office is Pepperdine’s high-tech, newly-renovated Payson Library complete with a full-functioning Starbucks, and you can feel the highly-caffeinated energy in the air.
