Joe and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad, spin class

The warmth of the gym rushed out at him as he stopped in the entryway to shake the moisture from his coat and listen anxiously to the banging and crash of the bars being loaded with even yet still more weight. A particularly loud grunt made him startle and almost turn around for a hasty exit. The two youngish women coming through the door, giggling about something, blocked his attempt to escape and he danced awkwardly from one side to the other, trying to find a way to exit gracefully around them.

The giggles intensified as he gave up and stood to one side. One flipped a cheeky smile over her shoulder at him as they proceeded into the main building. More noise and heat rushed out, ruffling his thin hair as he stood indecisively, clutching the stiff, blue voucher in one hand.

"Forward the Light Brigade….charge for the guns," he muttered under his breath as he reached a decision. With a deep breath, he shoved the second set of doors open and stepped into the welcome area. Shouts and splashes caught his attention as he stood near the desk, waiting for an opportune moment to speak to the cheerful young woman who was staffing it. He turned to watch through the large windows as a young, harried man paced along the side of the pool, watching a flailing, shouting crew of youngsters trying to do something resembling a breast stroke.

"Sir…? Sir…?"

He pulled his attention back to the young woman whose name tag read "Anna." She smiled at him.

"They're a lively bunch, aren't they?" she commented, nodding at the windows. "William has his hands full with that group." Noticing the voucher still clutched in his hand, she asked: "How can I help?"

"Um… well, I have this voucher for a one-day free trial of the facility…" he replied with a hesitant smile. "So I thought I'd come by and have a look."

"Wonderful!" she said enthusiastically. "We've got a lot of programs going on this morning. You might want to give a class a try."

"What sort of class? I thought it was just a gym…you know, with weights and treadmills and…" His eye caught a very sweaty, large man who pounded up to the water cooler and embraced it with loud gulps and gasps. "…and big, intimidating blokes who like to throw heavy things around."

Anna's peal of laughter attracted another woman who had been working on the computer behind the desk. The slender, dark haired woman glanced over for just a moment with a smile curling her lips. He caught the flash of her eyes before she looked back at the screen and wondered what color they were.

"We offer quite a bit more than that, Mister….?"

"Ah…Molesley. Joe Molesley."

"Well, Mr. Molesley, we offer a wide variety of exercise, fitness and lifestyle options in our facility…"

Joe Molesley tried to look like he was paying attention, but the people bustling around and the sounds from the fitness area near the desk were very distracting. Anna watched him as his eyebrows rose alarmingly at the sudden loud exclamation of encouragement towards a man trying to bench press a disturbingly large barbell.

"Is it always so….um….busy?" he asked, drawing another quick amused look from the woman at the computer.

"This time of the day it can be. A lot of the personal trainers schedule their sessions early in the morning, before their clients have to be at work." Anna paused to acknowledge several women who breezed in through the door, arguing cheerfully about the "Strictly Come Dancing" results. "Don't forget to sign in, Beryl!" she called.

"You'd think you'd know me by now," the older woman replied with an exasperated roll of her eyes. "I'm only here every bloody day."

"Rules, Beryl," Anna replied with a grin.

Joe watched the cheeky ginger sign in, eyebrows arching as he picked up a few of her muttered phrases. Anna just smiled indulgently and thanked her.

"Um…do the, uh…ladies have their own gym?" Joe asked tentatively, watching Beryl and company go through a set of swinging doors and down a corridor. The dark haired woman at the computer terminal stopped typing and turned around fully to look at him in disbelief.

Brown, he noted to himself. Her eyes are a lovely brown.

"Not at all," Anna assured him. "Except for the changing areas, the facility is entirely co-ed. Beryl is just going back to one of the studios for a fitness class."

"Spin," the woman at the terminal added.

Joe jerked his head around to look at her in puzzlement. Her eyes sparkled and she gave him a challenging grin.

"Spin?" he asked, visions of women loading washing machines to a disco song coming to his mind.

"Phyllis teaches a spin class," Anna told him, as he continued to stare at the other woman. "It's a high energy class on stationary bikes. Very popular."

"Is it?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of the woman he now knew was called Phyllis.

"You ought to give it a try," Phyllis invited as she stood up from her chair. Her spandex crop pants clung to her hips as she bent to gather up an armload of towels.

Joe realized he was staring and quickly looked over at Anna. Clearing his throat, he handed her the blue voucher.

"Well then…spin class it is. To start."

"Wonderful! I'll see you there," Phyllis called as she moved quickly towards the swinging doors.

Anna took his voucher with a knowing look and shoved a waiver at him to sign. Joe began to follow Phyllis eagerly, then stopped and turned to Anna with a concerned expression.

"Um…when you say 'high energy'…"

"Everyone goes at their own pace," she assured him.

He nodded and hesitantly pushed his way through the swinging doors. Anna chuckled and began shifting through a drawer in the counter.

"I'll just have the membership forms ready for when he gets back," she murmured.

I have made a bloody…horrible…mistake.

Panting desperately, feet pushing endlessly against the toe cages on the pedals, he tried to focus on the flapping legs of his track suit, blocking out the pounding beats of the club anthem pouring out of the speakers. His efforts to surreptitiously release some of the tension he'd applied over enthusiastically at the beginning of the class had caught the eye of one of Beryl's cohorts, and the young woman kept raising a smug eyebrow at him every time his hand would creep down to the knob.

By now though, he was nearly past caring.

Phyllis' encouraging, needling voice had made him begin at a much too high level, he admitted to himself. And as the final climb of the class tore into his chest and legs, he sincerely regretted the instinct that had made him show off a bit in a class predominated by women. Mostly older women.

Annoyingly fit older women.

He was beginning to resent that Phyllis didn't even seem to be breathing hard. But he didn't mind when she'd glance over at him in the dimmed lights of the room and smile encouragingly.

No…he didn't mind that a bit.

As the music came to crashing conclusion, there were breaths of relief throughout the class. No longer caring about the opinions of the others, Joe desperately twisted the tension off and vowed to leave it there. A quick glance around showed him that he wasn't the only one.

"Excellent work, ladies and gents!" Phyllis enthused from her cycle, facing them all. her eyes swept over the class, noting who had been exerting themselves and who hadn't. Her eyebrows knit in momentary concern at Joe's deep red face and heaving chest. She could hear him wheeze from the front of the room.

"Cool down! Take your tension all the way off and slow your pedaling until your heart rate gets back down."

Joe watched in fascination as she began doing some upper body stretches on the bike. A throat cleared next to him.

"You might want to do some stretching too," the young woman who'd been watching him suggested. "It'll help slow down your breathing." Joe nodded and began pulling his arms across his chest. "You did quite well for your first time."

"Thanks," he gasped in response.

"It's quite a lot of fun, isn't it," she went on. "I come three times a week. Beryl swears by it…says it keeps her cooking."

"You're not talking about me back there I hope, Daisy!" Beryl screeched from her bike towards the front of the room.

"Who else would I be talking about?" Daisy answered smartly.

The rest of the room laughed and Joe realized that this was probably a frequent exchange. Still struggling to get his breathing under control, he noticed that folks were getting off their bikes for more stretching. After fumbling with the toe traps, he freed his trainers and swung his leg over, reaching for his water bottle at the same time.

He couldn't figure out why the water bottle kept moving away from him.

"There he goes!" someone yelled. But Joe didn't hear it.

He didn't hear anything. Not until half a bottle of water had been dumped on his face.

"You'll be fine," a new voice assured him as he blinked and sputtered. "You just went a bit too much all out for your first class."

Joe strained to focus his eyes at all the faces that were leaning over him with various expression of concern and amusement. The soothing voice had come from an older woman with a stethoscope in her ears. His heart continued to race alarmingly, but she didn't seem too worried about it.

"No…no! don't get up just yet," she ordered as he began flailing about, trying to lever himself into a sitting position."

"I'm fine…I'm fine," he muttered.

"Lie down!" Phyllis barked at him. "Dr. Crawley isn't done with you yet."

Startled, he dropped back onto the floor as Dr. Crawley wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

"Really," he replied in a strangled voice, eyes darting frantically between his arm and Phyllis' snapping, stern eyes. "Really, I'm sure I'm fine now. Just, um….just overdid it a bit. That's all."

"I'm sure that's it," the woman now identified as Dr. Crawley said, giving him a pat on the arm and continuing to listen for his pulse. "Now, please be quiet."

"But…." he began, breaking off at Phyllis' glare.

Joe lay quietly, accepting his fate as the rest of the people in the class began gathering their things. He could hear them discussing his ignominious faint as they departed, and he cringed.

"Things seem to be returning to normal," Dr. Crawley announced as she whipped off the arm cuff and smiled at Phyllis. Joe was too preoccupied with staring at the carpet to see the look of relief that passed over Phyllis' face.

"Drink plenty of water to rehydrate," Dr. Crawley ordered as she packed up her medical bag. "And you might want to see your GP about that chest congestion. You've probably got a touch of bronchitis. Now….unless there are any other emergencies, I'm back off to Zumba."

"Thanks, Isobel," Phyllis said gratefully as the doctor left.

"Yeah…thanks," Joe muttered, finally sitting up and holding his head in his hands.

The only sound in the studio was the impatient tapping of Phyllis' trainer. The movement caught his eye and he glanced warily up at her.

"What the bloody hell did you think you were playing at?" she demanded. Ignoring his wide eyed stare, she continued angrily. "Are you trying to get me sacked? Dying in my class and all?"

"What!? No…I…what?"

"Think you can bloody show a studio full of women how its done, do you?"

"No! I just…." The lie in his mouth couldn't come out in the face of Phyllis' glare.

"Never occurred to you to ease into a brand new fitness activity?"

"Everything's a brand new fitness activity!" he blurted. "I haven't rode a bike since I was...I dunno...fifth form...and I just didn't know-"

"Didn't know what you doing," Phyllis finished his sentence with a sigh. "Right…."She watched him pluck at the laces of his trainers and stare unseeingly at the carpet. "Well, I apologize, Joe."

"What? What for?" he asked, bringing his eyes up to hers.

"I should have been more attentive, as it was your first time in Spin. Most people just go ahead and release the tension when they realize they've got it too high. I should have known you didn't know what to do with the bike."

"Oh I figured it out," he hastened to assure her. "It's not difficult. I just didn't want to back off..." He trailed off as a disgruntled expression settled on her face. "Um...I mean...I just didn't want to look like… I mean-"

"I think I know what you mean," she snapped.

"I was being a prat."

"Yes, you were."

"I'm, um, sorry about that. It won't get you in trouble will it?" he said with alarm. "I'll gladly sign a waiver, or something. It wasn't your fault."

"It'll be fine, Joe," she replied, a slight grin tugging the corners of her mouth. "You already did sign a waiver."

Joe blinked at her for a second, then wrinkled his brow in confusion.

"That's right...I did," he muttered, remembering that he'd been too busy watching Phyllis in her spandex to actually read the damn thing. "Then why did you say...?"

"You needed a good bollocking," she informed him sternly.

He gaped at her, then grinned at her severe expression as she stood over him in her bike pants and tight shirt.

She could dress me down any day if she wanted!

"I won't do it again," he promised.

"See that you don't," she ordered, smiling back at him.

Joe watched her putter around, straightening the bikes, and gathered his track suit jacket from near the wall where he'd pitched it five minutes into the session. He opened his mouth to say something...anything...that would keep her chatting with him. But after coming up with exactly nothing to say, he closed his mouth and quietly slipped out of the room.

"Ah, Mr. Molesley!" Anna called as he tried to sidle out of the doors unnoticed. "How was class?"

He winced and tried to look like a man who hadn't passed out as soon as he'd gotten off his cycle.

"It was...challenging," he mumbled.

"I hope you enjoyed it," Anna replied. "Like I said, we have a large variety of fitness and life style classes." She waved a packet of papers at him. "If you'll be considering a membership, I have some forms and an informative packet for you."

"Ah...well...I don't know, really..." he stammered, shrinking back from the packet Anna was holding out like it was a live cobra. "It may not be for me..."

"Well, think about it," Anna encouraged.

Joe responded with a weak nod and began to creep towards the doors again, thanking his lucky stars that he didn't see anyone from the class hanging about the welcome area.

"I hope to see you in class again sometime, Joe," Phyllis' voice called, bringing him up short. He turned around to see her moving behind the counter with an armload of used towels. A very large bloke stepped in front of her and impeded her movement towards the hamper. "Get off, Pete," she scolded.

"Am I in your way?' he replied in teasing voice, snatching the towels from her arms and heaving them towards the hamper.

"Daft bugger," she growled with a smile, bending to pick them up. This was apparently what the big bloke wanted, as he allowed his eyes to roam appreciatively over her. He caught sight of Joe standing near the doors with a thoroughly disgruntled expression.

"Say...are you the guy who passed out this morning?" he bellowed cheerfully. Every eye in the desk area turned to look at them curiously. "You need some basic fitness training, son."

"Leave off," Phyllis ordered with an eyeroll and a little shove at the man's arm. He grabbed her and pulled her to him while continuing to yell across the room at Joe. Joe's disgruntled expression grew stormier.

"Name's Pete Coyle," he informed Joe. "I'm a personal trainer, and I can fit you right up, mate." He leaned over to nip at a squirming, protesting Phyllis' neck. "Phyl can vouch for my results... all sorts of results!"

Joe's stomach burned as he watched him manhandle Phyllis. She didn't seem to object too strongly. Vomiting began to seem like a distinct possibility.

"Take it away from the front desk," Anna muttered irritably at them.

Peter grinned and obligingly began to haul Phyllis away, throwing a last comment over his shoulder at Joe:

"I'm the best in this bloody gym! Give me a call and I'll set you up with a free session!"

A free fitness training session with Peter Coyle was slightly south of a full body flaying on his list of things to achieve. He glared after them until he noticed Anna glance at him with sympathy.

"He's a bit of a loud mouth, but he does get results," she admitted. "We have other trainers though, if you're interested in one on one."

"No...I don't think...I, um, rather doubt this sort of thing is for me," he muttered. Turning away, he noticed Pete had corralled Phyllis by the door to the pool area, and she was arguing with him.

"...nancy boy couldn't pull a skin off a pudding," Pete said loud enough for Joe to hear.

"You're being an ass," she snapped. "He made it through the whole class. Everyone starts somewhere."

Joe reached for the door handles, then stopped. He turned with a determined scowl and marched back to the desk.

"I'll take a packet," he informed a confused Anna firmly.

Tucking the bundle of paperwork under his arm, he threw one last poisonous glare at Pete Coyle and strode out of the building.

"He'll be back," Anna said quietly to herself, looking from Joe's exit to where Phyllis was about to enter the pool area to lead water aerobics. "Probably tomorrow."