Trek Women
November 28, 2007

Return of the beast...

The_beast It’s 5 am and I’m tossing my bedroom in search of my bike shoes with the SPD clips, not the ones with the Speedplays that I keep tripping over. Found ‘em, under the laundry pile in the corner. Make mental note to buy soap. Chug a cup of instant espresso, down a gel (blech, orange, all I can find).  It’s 5:12 am and I’m sprinting to the Marine Barracks.

The beast! The beast! The beast! You may remember me mentioning Rob, the “Beast”, from one of my early blogs. He used to teach fitness classes at the Barracks before he got stationed to Quantico this summer. He also did the Ironman Wisconsin in September and helped me out a lot with my triathlon training.

No one does spin like Rob. He’s brutal as in “I’m seeing a white light” but fun as all get out with awesome music. I would laugh the whole time, except when panting or whimpering. Back in the day, you could walk into his class and there would be no seats on the bikes. We’d do the whole class standing. Then, you’d spend the rest of the day sitting because your quads and hammies would be burning.

A couple of weeks ago, I endured a particularly awful spin class at my gym –- sorry, Grateful Dead, Flight of the Bumblebee and the 4 Tops don’t do it for me. I emailed Rob and asked him if he was still teaching, I was willing to drive anywhere for his class. He spoke with Jaime Morris, who is the Semper Fit Director at the Barracks and also a fellow devotee. They worked it out so that Rob could come up and do a class for us once a month. Today, he brought the beast back –- 5:15 am start, 75 minutes of spin, and no faking the resistance. Said Rob, “That means you, Trek girl.”

Side by side, Jaime and I sprinted, climbed, jumped, tempo’d, hovered, you name it, as the beast barked orders. We loved it! At one point, Jaime said that she felt like she was in the movie Chariots of Fire. I said our chariots were going to be on fire by the end. Then Rob said, “If you two can talk, you’re not working hard enough.” Dang, got me.

After class and our sweaty photo op, I asked Rob if he had a quote for the blog about his triumphant return. He responded with his signature cocky grin, “I’m disappointed no one puked.”

Next time, my friend. There’s always next time.


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