A-Musing on Life from the Top Left Corner

By Jennifer Lesser

I have now been attending the Grind stationary training class for almost nine months. I have a “spot” reserved in class in the top left corner of the room. I initially took claim to this spot because my Computrainer is plugged into the outlet. Is this my official spot? Of course it isn’t, but

sometimes I do like to think I am special.

I see so many things from this spot in the room. Some moments are amusing, such as when our coach yells out instructions in German and no one can understand him. “What,” we ask? “What did he say…?” All the athletes mumble across the room to each other until we think we know…”just push 70 rpm…we think that’s what he said.” Okay, on to grinding, less talking. Others are dangerous . . . such as someone falling off their trainer only to laugh out loud and have us all join him. It’s good to be light-hearted sometimes.

Some moments are familiar. For instance, when a new athlete walks into the facility, you can see the look of hesitation on their face. They do not know where to set their trainer (or how to do so), what to wear, how much to drink, what cadence means, etc. However, within the first class, that look is gone. Everyone pitches in, explains directions, sets up the trainer, and reminds them to hydrate. The look of fear dissipates within the hour just like the evaporating pool of sweat that they leave. We have all been in the same situation and I remember it all too well. Helping a newcomer may make the difference between them continuing down their athletic road, or abruptly stopping and altering their course.

Other moments are endearing. Our team encompasses a variety of athletes, from grand-masters to junior elites, and everyone in between. I have watched the interaction between an athlete that is seventy and an athlete that is fourteen. To see the exchange of respect and admiration is a learning experience. I never had these moments in my young athletic career, and now see my own daughter enjoying them. This past weekend at the SEE-ME expo, I enjoyed viewing my five year old converse with one of our junior elites. My daughter thinks she is going to “race like mommy.” To see her talk with a young girl who

shows her attention fills my heart with pride. This environment is a confidence booster for her. For one of my own teammates to take the time to recognize a young child is planting a seed that may forever bloom.

In addition, I see moments of human kindness…I see our mechanic fixing power meters, derailleurs, cables, and tires…all in the middle of class. Something goes awry; he is there to fix it. I have seen athletes on the verge of tears because of equipment failures, and he is the first to offer a kind word and cast a sense of calmness over an already frazzled athlete. That takes some patience that a lot of type-A individuals do not have. It is good to be able to witness it and remember that everything is okay, despite the tunnel vision we all have from time to time.

I have many views from the corner in the top of the room and I like it. I see the hard work of my teammates, the dedication of our coaches, and the skills of our mechanic. As athletes, we are all trying to make ourselves better, focus on our goals and become better people along the way. To that I tip my visor and say keep on grinding!

Jennifer Lesser is a USAT certified coach and is currently coaching athletes and swimmers of all kinds. She comes from a collegiate swimming background and enjoys working with individuals to get them out of the water faster and more efficiently. Jennifer is a coach for the The Sport Factory in Roswell,GA and can be reached at jless@comcast.net.