I have a confession. I don't miss running. (Yet.) I LOVE spinning!
It's so imaginative. I am one of the least New Agey people I know, but pedaling in pitch blackness, cold sweat dripping down the sides of my face, listening to a mounting orchestra crescendo while the instructor commands, "You're almost at the peak of the mountain! Come on, lean to the left, you can see the crested peak!" is really cool.
Yes, getting up at 4:45 a.m. every day to get a bike at a 5:30 class is pretty brutal, but once I'm there, I'm in Utah, I'm in Colorado, I'm in the Himalayas. And that slow group of bikers the instructor keeps urging us to pass? I love passing them. Hah! And unlike running into real, living and breathing slow-walking elderly people on my jogging trail, I feel no remorse for leaving these imaginary bikers in my dust, because, of course, they are imaginary. (As is my dust.)
Anyway, it's fun stuff, and it's certainly worth getting out of bed for. That early.
I think my quads are getting the crash fitness course they need so I will be able to return to running next week strong enough to do a few miles without leaving my knee vulnerable to fatigue. Parts of my legs that were never sore certainly are speaking up. And maybe I'll even become a tad bit faster, if I can dare to dream. Pedaling fast up an imaginary mountain is good practice for sprinting to a real finish line. (Or so I am told.)
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