Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Rickshaw in the rain and spinning class

I would be sitting here laughing hysterically at my morning, but I think Jacinta would think I've gone mad. I was calmly sipping my morning tea, checking my email when Greg calls. He had probably just gotten to work. He had forgotten his passport and registration booklet to give to our rep from the shipping company this morning. I had just signed up to try out a spin class at Gold's Gym (same company with an Indian twist) at 9am, so I had just enough time to dash over to the school and then go straight on to the gym. I gathered everything I would need and headed out. Now, it's been raining for almost 24 hours straight and walking to find a rickshaw, there was a lull in the pitter patter. The first driver I flagged down didn't want to go that far, but the second one was eager and knew what I was talking about. Hooray! As luck would have it, just as we turned onto the main road it started to rain. The rickshaw is open on both sides, but there were some faux leather rain flaps to put over the openings on either side of me. As we picked up speed, the flaps pushed inside, allowing both sides of the seat to have rain leaking in. I tried hold them out, but it only helped a little. I just reminded myself that I was drier than if I was walking and tried to make myself smaller to fit in the dry area. Luckily my bag is waterproof. We pulled out onto the expressway, and the rickshaw slows down and is jerking. The driver is clicking things trying to keep the thing going as we go up a hill. I chuckle, "Awesome. it's pouring, the rickshaw is going to break down on the expressway and I'm going to miss the spin class. Greg's going to owe me big time." I started my mantra, "If it's meant to be it will happen, if it's meant to be it will happen." As we reach the crest of the hill, the rickshaw picks up speed again. The driver knows exactly where to go and we sputter to the school gate. I asked him if the rickshaw can make it back to Bandra. He tells me yes. (Yeah, right). So, I asked him to wait while I drop off Greg's documentation.

Now, ASB has an amazing security system and I haven't had to try to enter the building by myself. The guards are trying to figure out who Greg is and who I am, they make a couple of phone calls and I'm allowed to the next station where I fill out a form, have my picture taken and I'm escorted to the reception office. I hand them Greg's documents, turn around and walk out. Marlys, I can assure you your son is VERY safe while at school. It took five minutes to get into the building to spend 30 seconds inside.

I hop back into the rickshaw and luckily it's stopped raining. In fact, there's a nice breeze and I start to dry off. Ahhhhh... Then the rickshaw sputters and the driver pulls over. "One moment," he says and goes round the back with a tool. He is able to start it again and off we go. Again, we almost don't make it up the expressway hill, but it was meant to be and the rickshaw continues forward. When we get to the gym, I don't have any small bills, the driver doesn't have any change, the snack bar at the gym doesn't have change, but finally a guard shows up with some change and I can pay the driver. I had a feeling that was going to happen.

Alright - spin class! I'm psyched because my last spin class was in Grand Junction the end of May (I miss my class with Kimberly!!!) and I'm ready to get my butt kicked. I wait outside the room while the last class is finishing. I hear yelling and there are strobe lights...hmmmmm. When the class gets out, we head in, find our bikes, get everything adjusted, and I'm ready. The instructor starts to tell us we are doing some kind of hill work out, that's all I understand, and the techno starts along with crazy colored lights. The next hour I'm trying to figure out what resistance she wants us to have and where my hands should be. I think staying with the RPMs, meant staying with the beat of the song. Then all we did for each song was keep the RMPs up and spend a lot of time out of the saddle. It wasn't too much about proper cycling form and she went straight through the whole class with very little easing up. (I got my butt kicked). I sweated like a maniac and had a hard time walking down the stairs afterwards. Oh, I forgot, the last song had strobe lights along with her yelling "four counts down, four counts up, four counts down, four counts up" - not psyched about that at all. I felt like I was spinning at a disco. So, there's one other place that offers spin classes that I will check out, plus I may try another teacher. I really couldn't under stand much of what she was saying, I just looked around a tried to follow other riders, who all seemed to be doing something different too. Kimberly I miss you!!

After class, I needed some comforting, so I found a place that made a great cheese and mushroom omelet and an amazing cup of hot chocolate. It's only noon and I still have the rest of the day for some more Bombay adventures, though I'm already tired. Lessons learned - rickshaws are not to favored mode of transportation during the monsoons and I must expand my horizons of what "spin class" means. Rock on!

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