EDG Flex

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The morning sun gleamed at 8:15 am. I stood at the entrance of the EDG class in Highland Park, relishing the rare pleasure of sleeping in. This was a treat granted by the sporadic joys of remote work. Yet, this comfort masked the impending challenge.

The class? It was a duality. We alternated between rhythmically pedaling spin cycles and strength exercises that demanded finesse. We spent most of our time—roughly three-fourths—on the bikes. The rest? Engaging in resistance. The group of ten, for the most part, seemed seasoned with life's experiences. Maybe they were reveling in retirement or its nearing horizon.

As we cycled and resisted, I felt a disconnect. Not because I couldn't keep up, but a deeper puzzle nagged at me. Past sessions had mentioned 'zones', elusive numbers like "Zone 3". Today, these zones were in the spotlight, but I was in the dark. My love for clear metrics—wattage, speed, or cadence—made these zones feel vague. "Zone 2"? What did it mean? Still, sweat dripped off me, marking my effort.

Then, a surprise. A lady with silver hair handed out chilled, damp towels. This small act, a bridge between our cycling and strength training, was a touch of kindness and unity.

The strength portion was different than what I knew from downtown. Downtown had a plethora of dumbbells, but here? Just two. Tentatively, maybe a bit too relaxed, I followed the lead of my older classmates. Later, introspection revealed I could've tackled a heftier challenge.


All the best,

Fred

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