A letter:

Dear anonymous woman in spinning class this morning:

When you walked into the spinning room at 8:12, it was obvious that you were a first-timer. I'm not sure what gave you away, if it was your lack of a towel, or your heavy Hanes sweatpants, or your less-than-svelte physique, or your long-sleeved t-shirt, or your hair falling all about your shoulders instead of pulled up and off your neck (it helps with the sweating, I promise), but it was clear that you had no idea what you had stumbled into.

After several years of spinning classes, I've seen lots of first-timers, few who end up being repeat customers. Most quit before even getting through the first class is done. There were two first-timers in class this morning (you may have noticed the fit guy on the other side of the room who decided to come along with his wife), and if I were a betting woman, I would have put money on you dropping out before he did. After all, even though he was brand-new, he looked like he belonged.

But you surprised me. When we jumped, you jumped. When we cranked up the gear, I saw you doing it too. It's true that you were drenched and looked exhausted at the end of class, but you finished, which is more than we can say for the other newcomer, who staggered out, headed for the nearest bathroom as fast as his weakened legs would carry him. You probably thought you were learning something new when you were spinning today, and even though I've been going to the class for years, I felt like I did too.

Thanks.

1. lazy days with the kids
2. getting my long run out of the way on Friday
3. primary pizza parties