2.12.10

The saddest boy to ever ride a spin bike

I didn't know how to go about my day. The demons were closing in, making me believe bad things about myself. The residuals of a post holiday break-up were causing me to wallow in the hurt. Yet, I had to get the music together, plan the ride and get in gear to teach.

And I did.

The energy in the room made me come alive. He was next to me and he was on fire... more today then ever. He carried me when I was meant to lead him- and everyone else in that room. With each song he grew more powerful. He sprinted with ease and simulated climbing my hills with grace. He was in a trance. So focused, strong, agile and in the moment. It wasn't until the music became soft and my voice was hoarse (from a weeks worth of flu) that his adrenalin stepped back, leaving his emotions glaring.

Without saying anything it hit me. When he is on that bike or in that yoga class- or lifting those weights, he gives himself permission to unthink. When the last sweat bead has dripped and the music stops, Nate has to return to his melancholy truth. How could I be so naive? Here I am sulking over a petty love lost and Nate just spent the first of his 38 Thanksgivings (on this planet) without the one person he loved most.

2010 hasn't felt good to Nate. A few months ago, his heart was suddenly broken into a crack that would never mend. My heart was broken to, but I will love again. In fact, I'll love better than ever. No one will replace the love Nate lost. He had never called anyone else Mom, and she only referred to one as child. He lost his beloved mother. Irreplaceable. Twenty four days from now he will experience his first Xmas without her. For the rest of his life, he'll experience a wealth of first...without her.

I saw it in his face once the endorphins tempered. After the sweat dries and there aren't any more classes to take, Nate has to face his life again. I can't claim to know that feeling, P is alive and well and still fussing over her hair. I wanted to take his pain away. Do something to make him feel better, if only temporarily. It wasn't until he kissed my cheek and thanked me for the class that I realized... I did.

In return, I silently thanked him for slapping me out of my victim-bed; forcing me to see that life...really does go on, we have a choice: ride the bike or not.

3 comments:

  1. that was beautiful. absolutely beautiful writing. experiencing. living. knowing. ...not knowing. thanks for sharing.

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  2. ...and you owe me thirty, woman. ha ha

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  3. I actually owe you $35, friend! And your azz owes me a phone call back! Got Terry's lovely letter. Sweat. Simply sweat!

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