The Day I Missed Spin Class

I have used a variety of excuses to avoid working out over the course of my life. All of them seemed very satisfactory at the time. I'll admit it is a habit I'm trying to break. To do this, I have adopted the belief that statements such as "I don't have time to workout," or "I'm too tired to workout" are not statements of fact, but rather statements of priority.

I recently changed my priorities.

I recently started spinning which, despite how bad it sucks, it's kind of fun. And despite how fun it is, it is actually a great workout.

Because of this, working out is now one of the favorite parts of my day. I work the rest of the day around it. It is such a part of my life that, if I happen to miss a day, I get jeering text messages from other class members. Motivation at its best.

This Thursday was one of those days. One of the days I missed. I had told my fellow spinners in advance that my flight was getting in late on Wednesday night (8:20pm) and that I may not be able to attend Thursday's (notoriously the most difficult) class. Excuses excuses. They jeered at me. "If your flight gets in before 5:30am Thursday morning, you can make it," was their response.

True. And motivating. And correctly prioritized. They shot my excuse down in a second -- that's what friends are for.

Wednesday night I arrived at 8:20pm.

Thursday morning, I did not go.

I passed the message that I was "just too tired".

I soon started receiving the hate texts: "Alright sunshine, just because you got in "late" doesn't mean you can slack off." and "What person in their 20s calls 8:30 late. I'm 55 kiddo and I was there." ... the list went on.

It was true. Missing spin class for a little extra sleep was poor prioritizing on my part. I deserved the hate texts. However, in my defense, it was a lie. I didn't skip class for sleep alone... Oh no, there was a much more important reason.

...

You see, Michael and I have an enormous king sized bed. It is really too big for its own good. We sleep on complete opposite sides and I never even know he is there unless he's talking in his sleep or making some kind of smell. It's sad. I don't like it.

So imagine my delight when I woke up to my alarm Thursday morning, (set to go to spin class)... only to find myself holding Michael's hand. It was a true miracle. Both of our arms outstretched across the great mattress scape, only to find each other and interlock fingers, all while Michael and I slept the night peacefully away.

Now really... could I end such a sweetly spontaneous moment of love because the alarm had sounded? Was I to break this bond, and jump out of bed to merely go exercise? No. No, this was a moment, just as I was not responsible for starting, I did not want to be responsible for ending. So, with my other hand I turned off my alarm, pulled the covers back up, and enjoyed one more hour holding the hand of a man while we slept.

Some might say my priorities were out of line, that I was lazy that Thursday morning (on any other Thursday, I probably would have been the one making that accusation). But for me, and that morning...

My priorities were right where they should be; in Michael's hand.

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There is a difference between a statement of fact and a statement of priority. Taking responsibility for the way in which you prioritize your life, for better or worse, is a liberating moment. A moment when you are able to accept, and rise to the challenge of, controlling your own life.