On the Peloton platform, they’ve gamified fitness utilizing badges and milestones to mark significant workouts. Garmin does this too, as does Apple and other fitness trackers. I have no judgment about this – I find them motivating. I would still move my body without them, of course, but it is fun!
We have a Sober Squad within the many Peloton sub-communities. We’ve had meetups and zoom meetings and cheer each other on during PowerZone challenges. It’s fun and like any fitness activity, having community and accountability helps! One of my sober Pelo buddies is reaching his 1,000th ride right about the same time I am so we had planned to ride a live class together. (Live rides are done in real time, instructors can see you on the leaderboard, along with the 1500 other people riding also.) Many members do these for milestones in the hopes of a shout-out. I am no different and tomorrow will be a live Millennium ride!
But to get to tomorrow, I had ride #999 to get through first. After warming up, getting my strength classes in, I noticed my left shoe wasn’t clipped in all the way.
Luckily, I had another pair of pedals on hand. “No problem. I will switch them out,” I thought to myself. “Nothing is gonna keep me from tomorrow’s class!”
I grab my tools and the box with the other pedals in them and set to work. I watch YouTube tutorials (left side turns opposite) and learn all about pedal installation. I am a person who likes to dig in and do things. It frustrates me when I can’t figure something out. I mean, we live in the age of the internet, right?! Everything is figure-out-able.
I cannot for the life of me get the pedal to turn. I cannot get the old pedals off. I call Eric for moral support and to make sure I’m doing it right. Also to ask if we have any WD40 or any other brilliant ideas he may have, so I can get this job done. He offers to take them off when he gets home. That’s my last resort because A. I want to do this myself and B. I really don’t like riding in the evening and I want fresh(ish) legs for tomorrow’s fun.
After a quick trip to the store for WD40 – because of course this is the time to discover we are out, I return home. I spray the pedals down and pull and yank on the wrench. They aren’t budging. I grab something to eat while I wait for the WD40 to work it’s magic. I sit behind the pedal and try again. I pull, I grit my teeth, I squeeze my eyes shut, and pull again.
It comes loose!
Then the pain sets in as I catch my breath, realizing I have just punched myself in the face with my own fist and the wrench. I cry, both from relief that the dang thing finally came undone, and also because I feel the blood rushing toward cheekbone, now pulsing from the pain.
I move to the other side of the bike, crank that one loose, and happily avoid giving myself another Marsha Brady football-to-the-nose face. I install the new pedals, and as I sit there in stunned silence, I hear the garage door open.
“You did NOT come home just because of my pedal fiasco, did you?” I holler to Eric as he walks in, smiling.
“I did,” he replies. I burst into tears again. He laughs, I laugh – and show him that I got them off but not without injury. He hands me Tylenol and heads back to work.
I settle in to my new pedals, ready to ride #999. So I can then ride #1000 tomorrow with friends.
What adds insult to injury is that this morning I was just chatting with friends about yoga, meditation and finding that flow state while working out physically. That we can sit and be in the uncomfortable and how that translates to life outside of working out. Today was definitely not a meditative workout. It was far from zen. They can’t all be life transforming. Some are infinitely more memorable than others.
I have no doubt that the memory of riding the millennium ride will not be without the thought of a punch to my own face.