I pressed the “advanced” button on the computer screen outside my health club’s cycling studio. Unable to join a live cycling class due to time constraints, I opted to try the recently installed Wexer Virtual exercise platform. I could have chosen to virtually cycle through Trossachs, Scotland, Patterdale, England or other exotic locations displayed on a large video monitor.. Instead I chose an instructor, “Catherine,” figuring it would be nice to have someone speaking to me as I navigated this new and unfamiliar form of exercise.
Turns out the instructor was retired Olympian and four-time world champion Catherine Marsal, with a personality that, I would eventually discover, wavers between pleasant French woman and prison guard from the Laura Hillenbrand best seller, Unbroken. The former was on full display as the program began and she cheerfully promised that, “Hopefully, we’ll have some good fun.”
I should have stopped pedaling at “hopefully.”
Instead I increased my pace and stared intently at the screen, as she stared back at me. Unlike the wildly popular Insanity workout, which I tried for about 10 minutes, Marsal’s program didn’t feature a bunch of participants behind her, getting paid to smile while their bodies imploded. This was one-on-one training and I quickly realized I didn’t like that Marsal was doing all the talking. So I vowed to respond whenever possible. I even charted the exact times of our conversations during the 45-minute workout, even though slowing down to write in a sweat stained notebook is probably frowned upon by the professional cycling community.
9:36 CATHERINE: Now we’re ready to start working out.
ME:What have we been doing for the past 10 minutes?
10:05 CATHERINE: Breathe!
ME: If you have to remind me to breathe, exactly what occurred in your last class?
15:43 CATHERINE: Stay calm!
ME: I am very calmly dialing 911. Then I will calmly tell the operator to send over as much oxygen as possible.
19:14 CATHERINE: You should be able to talk. Small words.
ME: Most profanities are monosyllabic. Let me loudly demonstrate.
23:13 CATHERINE: Be patient! Use the space in your lungs.
ME: I’ve used up all that space hurling small words in your direction.
25:45 CATHERINE: Don’t lean on your arms.
ME: Sorry. I’m going to need my arms to break my fall when I pass out.
36:06: CATHERINE: Stay with me!
ME: The last time I heard that line, I was watching Grey’s Anatomy. And it didn’t end well.
37:32: CATHERINE: You’re looking good!
ME: If your idea of a good looking man is one whose tongue is listlessly hanging from his mouth while some non-descript liquid oozes from his nostrils, then thank you for the compliment.
38:20: CATHERINE: It’s going to hurt from your toes to your ears!
ME: You are half right. My ears are killing me. I can no longer feel my toes.
38:43: CATHERINE: You’re going to ride through hell. But it’s a good ride.
ME: It would be a much more pleasant ride if you would kindly ask Satan to get off my shoulders.
Finally, it was over. Catherine briefly disappeared from the screen while I chugged water, slowed my speed to a child navigating a two-wheeler for the first time, and contemplated emailing Wexer Virtual to suggest they dump Marsal for Lance Armstrong. I would gladly participate in the “Take Two of These and It’s Much Easier” workout. Marsal returned after a few minutes, encouraging me to stretch and looking as if she had just cycled to church. She praised my effort and I informed her that, despite my whining, I would be back for more — what was the phrase she used? — good fun.
And, next time, I would fill my lungs with some new, small and unprintable words.
