meg enters the bustling gym in her cute black yoga capris and a loud UNC tee, paired with a crop top gray hoodie and her suede Reebok kicks-- oops, wrong narration. this is about exercise, not fashion. let's try this again.
meg enters the gym, still looking totally cute in the above described outfit, and heads towards the recumbent bikes that create a long, menacing, line as far as the eye can see. they exude perfection and raw strength, luring the innocent passerby to hop on for a quick workout. she's tempted to swing her cane back like a golf putt, imagining the metal bashing into the ugly, gray base over, and over, and over, and over-- sorry, getting carried away. her legs swing over the seat and she slides the bar into position #13, her heart racing and palms sweating.
thoughts begin to push their way forward, revealing her previous relationship with this machine- hours of intense spinning classes flash before her eyes. she remembers racing over a hill with ease and enjoyment during a sprint triathalon in college. or when she and daniel had raced to mount vernon one hazy afternoon. it had always been so easy, so assumed that this simple machine would always be mastered. she squints her eyes closed and shakes her head slightly, trying to force those memories from her mind. the gym is full of fit young college students, and if she didn't know better she would think she was at the SRC on the UNC-CH campus. although the endless population of suntanned, bleach blondes in their swinging ponytails and pink shorts with sorority letters on the rear was significantly.
she takes a deep breath and grips the handlebars with an intensity that startles her for a brief second. suddenly, her legs are flying forward, the pedals rotating in circular motions, as her eyes pop open and her mouth drops down in surprise. the pedals continue to move, almost like a life of its own, and she looked again to confirm it was her legs making the familiar circular movement. she was doing it! she had conquered the recumbent bike!
oh wait,... oh dammit... the pedals are slowing down, it's becoming harder to push. are weights tied to these damn things? move, please move. come on- she had just done it a moment ago. she swore she was. she checks the console's blinking "workout summary", and scans to the time portion. 30 seconds. that's all? she remembered when 30 minutes was part of her "shortened" workout. but, she could accept 30 seconds. last month she couldn't even do 3 seconds.
she smiles to herself victoriously. she had won, if only for a few seconds.
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