Today featured a wintry mix in Minnesota. As a result, I was not too surprised to see a small crowd in the after work spin class.
I took a bike in the middle of the class and started up, while listening to the substitute instructor give commands. Up, down, hover, increase resistance, all of the typical stationary bike type instructions. Meanwhile, she was playing an Eighty’s Mix through her iPhone. More up, down, hover commands. I followed along like a good boy.
Actually, I was the only boy in the class. I was however on my game and was spinning pretty good. In fact, I thought I was looking pretty good, too. Fit. Capable. Self confident. All sorts of manly and somewhat sorts of muscly.
Looking ahead, I tried to gauge the instructor’s next moves. Up? Down? Hover? It was kind of dark and not the easiest setting to anticipate her movements or track her eyes. “Jessie’s Girl” played loudly in the room and as the song says, “You know I wish that I had Jessie’s girl.”
Without warning and in a casual tone, the instructor observed, “He’s easy on the eyes.” Huh? Me? I was after all the only “He” there. In the darkened room, “Jessie’s Girl” played on and as the song says, “she’s watching him with those eyes.” Yes, it had to be me. She seemed to be looking straight ahead.
Wow. Strange, but still nice. Thank you, I guess. Yep, me, “Easy on the eyes.” Then it struck me (accompanied by a strong crestfallen feeling), she was actually looking at her phone. She was looking at the photo that accompany’s the single, “Jessie’s Girl.” She was talking about Rick Springfield, circa 1981.
How could I compete against an early ’80s Pop Icon? I was no Rick Springfield, not even close. Sad, I accepted my reality. A sweaty middle aged dad on a stationary bike, certainly not Rick Springfield. As I spun on with an up, down, hover, turn it up two clicks, I smiled. Sure, I wasn’t Rick Springfield, but for five seconds or so, I truly believed that I was considered “easy on the eyes” and as the song goes “I play along with the charade.”
Sure, he’s handsome, but I bet he cannot bake a cookie worth a lick.
Take that Rick Springfield from 36 years ago.