I finally made it back to the gym today after an unfortunate few week hiatus. In my defense, the gym was closed for a week in there, but the rest of my truancy was due completely to my own excuses and various and sundry other issues that seemed to be in the way of walking two easy blocks from my office and plopping my sorry self down on a stationary bike.
And so I felt some very well-deserved but serious pain in spinning class tonight. Through the haze of the pulsing music and pedaling torture, I was able to conjure up only two other times in my life that I've sweated that much.
One was sitting in a van in 110 degree heat at the base of the caldera on Santorini Island in Greece, waiting on a few straggly bedraggled backpackers before climbing the teetering switchbacks to Oia, some unknown importance having been placed on keeping the windows sealed up and the sliding door firmly closed.
The other time was in Le Kef, Tunisia, this time ratcheting it up to 120 degree heat. Having been stuffed into a five seater long distance taxi and told we were leaving straight away, then waiting indefinitely for a few more interested but dusty traveling Tunisians to bring the car's occupancy to a stuffy, stinky, squished and nearly unbearable seven, with me as the lone lady amongst the sweaty menfolk.
Note to self: Stop skipping spin class, and for the love of God, stop traveling south in August!
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