I went to my first spin class ever today (today being Wednesday July 18), and something about the class, and the music played in it, and the fact that I heard someone talking angrily about "spinning my wheels" at his current job on the lightrail last night, made me feel like the universe was telling me to blog about the experience. Or maybe I just feel like writing something.
It's a rather illustrative concept, isn't it, "spinning my wheels?" Generally, people resent finding themselves exactly where they started after expending a great deal of effort. That's why so many people I know say they hate running on treadmills; that's why "I'm just spinning my wheels at this job" was the Lightrail Guy's way of saying how frustrated he was about his work environment and lack of upward mobility. And yet.
During the second song in my spin class, the instructor was telling us to imagine ourselves coasting down a hill at full speed, 30 MPH, when we were spinning at low resistance, and I frankly was frightened at the thought. I was just fine with pumping my legs hard and fast but not changing my position at all. By which I'm trying to say--I don't mind moving fast, but staying in the same place. Is that bad?
I suppose it's a good quality for a person in medical school, which, if you enter it right after college, keeps you in a state of woman-childhood (or man-childhood, as the case may be) well into your late 20's. You learn how the human body works, how to fix it when it stops working, how to make people stop bleeding when they start and start breathing when they stop, and yet for years, you're always listening to what someone else tells you to do. You're not given true power until you're nearly 30, if not older. But I'm okay with that. I'm okay with treading water while I get my mental footing.
Last night, my second-grade teacher, who found me on Facebook about a year ago, sent me a message saying that her son possibly has a rare condition that she'd never heard about before. She asked me what I knew about it, and I was able to use my limited medical school knowledge (and the resources of the Internet) to give her some information. In a week that seems full of circles, it felt pretty great to have come full-circle enough to impart knowledge to a woman who once imparted knowledge to me. So do I mind spinning my wheels for a while? Not one bit.
It's a rather illustrative concept, isn't it, "spinning my wheels?" Generally, people resent finding themselves exactly where they started after expending a great deal of effort. That's why so many people I know say they hate running on treadmills; that's why "I'm just spinning my wheels at this job" was the Lightrail Guy's way of saying how frustrated he was about his work environment and lack of upward mobility. And yet.
During the second song in my spin class, the instructor was telling us to imagine ourselves coasting down a hill at full speed, 30 MPH, when we were spinning at low resistance, and I frankly was frightened at the thought. I was just fine with pumping my legs hard and fast but not changing my position at all. By which I'm trying to say--I don't mind moving fast, but staying in the same place. Is that bad?
I suppose it's a good quality for a person in medical school, which, if you enter it right after college, keeps you in a state of woman-childhood (or man-childhood, as the case may be) well into your late 20's. You learn how the human body works, how to fix it when it stops working, how to make people stop bleeding when they start and start breathing when they stop, and yet for years, you're always listening to what someone else tells you to do. You're not given true power until you're nearly 30, if not older. But I'm okay with that. I'm okay with treading water while I get my mental footing.
Last night, my second-grade teacher, who found me on Facebook about a year ago, sent me a message saying that her son possibly has a rare condition that she'd never heard about before. She asked me what I knew about it, and I was able to use my limited medical school knowledge (and the resources of the Internet) to give her some information. In a week that seems full of circles, it felt pretty great to have come full-circle enough to impart knowledge to a woman who once imparted knowledge to me. So do I mind spinning my wheels for a while? Not one bit.
