While I’m on the phone, I absently stand on the scales. I’m surprised to see the number on it, one because I’ve forgotten to weigh myself in nearly two months and two because it has changed. I’m not consciously eating better but I’m not as hungry all the time. I’ve gotten stronger, my thighs and shoulders have tightened and if I flex the muscles in them, I can feel muscle, not softness.
Kim says, ‘Ah Nat, I was going to offer you the box room we have in our flat. We’re going to be renting it soon. It sounds like you’re having too much fun in the west to come back to Dublin?’
I lay out the five bikes as usual. This week we’re travelling to the remote wilderness of Antarctica. I’ll discuss the deathly silence that permeates Antarctica and how sound is the deepest form of touch, it goes inside the body. But I’ll mention that in the silence, if we focus, we’ll hear the cracking of ice sheets, a research helicopter landing, fur seals fighting, emperor penguin chicks hatching.
I don’t bring any oils because the air in the Antarctic is so chilly and clean it’s nearly devoid of smell.
I set everything up, say hello to the spinners. ‘Wraith Pinned to the Mist and Other Games’ is our warm-up song while we cross the ocean.
An older couple enter the room. I’m stunned to see new people in the class.
‘Hi,’ I say. ‘Can I help ye?’
They wave me off and set themselves up on the bikes, adjusting the seat and handlebars.
I know that this pair are fitness fanatics and they’ll want a tough no-frills workout. I’ve seen them at Pat’s classes before and admired their energy. They must be in their late sixties, at least.
I dally around but decide to go for it. ‘This session may be a bit different to what you’re used to,’ I say and start.
After we sail to the South Pole, I play the William Orbit Odyssey remix of ‘Frozen’ by Madonna to cross the terrain. I liven things up for a while with faster paced music. Then I play an Antarctic wind track and run them through the script about its desert terrain, how it’s the windiest, driest and coldest place on Earth. I mention the Martian and lunar meteorites found in the ice, Shackleton’s Nimrod expedition and, as we explore glaciers and icebergs, I talk about global warming’s effect. What will the melting of Antarctica mean for Earth’s future?
I observe the older couple throughout, to see if they’re okay. I’m not worried about Djetska, Colin and Lorna.
At the end of the session, to lighten things up when the script is over, I play Vanilla Ice.
The couple approach me after class.
‘How did you do that?’ the man asks.
‘It was rather trippy,’ his wife says.
‘I don’t know. I used to make stuff up for kids I was teaching.’
‘What an adventure. Where are we going next week?’ the wife asks.
‘We can pay you separately for this?’ the man asks.
‘Oh no, that’s not necessary.’
‘Of course it is. Know your worth, girl.’
‘I don’t think the leisure centre will allow that.’
‘Nonsense, they’d never know.’
‘I’ll check with Andrea.’
‘It’s best we don’t tell her, or anyone, about this. You work your magic and we’ll keep all this safe.’
He forces me to take twenty euro, ten euro from him and ten from his wife. He introduces them as Boris and Pamela.
‘You work your magic,’ he says.
My uncle says, ‘Natalie, explain to your grandmother that she needs to stop being stubborn,’ as I enter the kitchen from the back door.
Gran is pale, looking away.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.
‘She’s resisting a check-up,’ he says. ‘Talk some sense into her. I’ll collect her in the morning.’
He takes his jacket off the coat-stand and leaves.
‘I won’t go to the doctor’s, Natalie. I know if I go, I’m not coming home.’
‘Don’t say that. Don’t convince yourself with that story.’
Gran throws a sod of turf onto the fire.
‘I’ve seen it too many times. This is what happened with your granddad. With the neighbours. With half the bingo bus. They go to the doctor’s and they don’t come home.’
Her thick glasses magnify her blue eyes.
I bite the inside of my cheek. ‘If that’s the case, I can understand why you don’t want to go. Look, I’m not going to try to persuade you but I can stick up for you if they’re putting pressure on. I’m on your side.’
She smiles sadly, pats my hand. ‘Thanks, Natalie. Ignore me, I’m an auld cailleach. I’ll go. But it vexes me when they march in here and announce what I’m to do, like I’m their child and not the other way round.’
We’re en route to Iguazu Falls in Brazil. I’ve some wonderful natural sounds and samba too. I open the class with ‘Waterfall’ by The Stone Roses.
Things kick off with a speedy warm up. A couple in matching blue shiny tracksuits enter the studio. They go to the store room and drag out a bike each, park them in the corner away from the semi-circle. Boris and Pamela tut.
I don’t recognize them, not from other spin classes or reception.
They glare at me. I continue even though I’m unnerved.
‘So today we’re going to go hardcore with the hill-climbing, to get to the top of the falls. Okay, keep pedalling and turn your resistance up two turns. You should feel the resistance but not be stalled by it. Right. Let’s start this climb.’
I see my reflection in the back mirror.
‘Seated sprint… isolate your core and pedal… race…’
The class pant.
‘Okay, we’ll reduce our pace. Everybody breathe in deeply through your nose and out through your mouth. Keep your legs moving but we’ll slow it down.’
They do what they’re asked.
I play soothing waterfall sounds and describe this area of Brazil, the protection of the environment, the folklore and geological history of the falls. I talk about the rainbows that form due to the refraction of light against the mist caused by the formidable flowing of the water.
The blue tracksuit couple make faces to each other.
After class, the blue tracksuit woman stomps over. ‘What in the hell was that?’
I feel cornered and step away from her. ‘What?’
‘Are you some sort of hippie?’
‘No,’ I say. ‘I don’t think I am.’
‘Or a pagan? What was all that eco-centrism?’
‘It was some information on the area we were visiting.’
‘Less messing, more exercise,’ the blue tracksuit man says.
Boris tips me twenty euro. His usual contribution.
‘Why are you giving her money?’ the blue tracksuit woman asks. ‘Is this madness not covered in our membership? I refuse to pay for this demonic show.’
‘It is covered. You don’t have to pay. He doesn’t have to pay.’ I try to hand the money back.
He addresses the woman. ‘Claudia, we should all be paying. This young woman is trying to do something different. It is very typical of you and Timothy to come and ruin a club with your conservatism.’
Timothy sniffs. ‘Not like the Bolsheviks ye are?’
Djetska, Colin and Lorna slink out of the room. Boris brings up an issue at the golf club with Timothy and Claudia. A shouting match ensues between the old couples. The women seem more likely to get violent than their husbands. I enter into it to mediate but I’m gently shoved away by Pamela. I get the sense this fight has more going on with it than my spin class.
They eventually leave and I tidy the studio.
Gran notices my sadness in the evening. She tries to soothe me. ‘Natalie, you have to remember, people like different things. You have to let them be. It takes all sorts to make a world. Wouldn’t we be bored senseless if we were all the same?’