So tonight, before dropping off The Divorce Papers, I went to the gym. Because I like the gym ... and I really like what it's doing for this old body of mine.
Monday night is spinning class, taught by the inimitable Joe (who, incidentally, has the most beautiful arms.) Joe has a way of talking you through a class and making you work harder than you ever thought you could and enjoy every aching moment. Tonight, after class, as I was cleaning my bike (because I sweat like an athlete!) he came up to me and asked how I was enjoying spinning. I've only been coming for about 10 weeks now, so I'm still relatively "new."
I told him I really enjoyed it, that each week was a challenge, and that the calories burned are definitely a bonus. And then I told him that the most remarkable thing about challenging myself with the different cardio classes I'm taking is that the harder I work, the more time I spend just sorta burning below my anaerobic threshold, the quicker my heartrate returns to its resting state when I slow down. And he says to me ...
"It's amazing how quickly the heart can recover once its healthy."
Think about that for a second.
I started to tear up, standing there drenched in sweat and talking to someone I desperately wanted to see me not as a weak chick, but as an athlete. So I bit the inside of my cheek, thanked him for a great class, and hurried to the locker room.
My heart has recovered. My heart is healthy. My heart is strong.