I’m sitting at the computer basking in the afterglow of a great spin class. For those of you who haven’t experienced that particular form of exercise, a spin class involves three things I detest – loud music, group exercise, and someone yelling instructions at you. It is 45 minutes of great aerobic exercise on a particular type of exercise bike that allows you to change the resistance and to ride in both sitting and standing positions. By the end of the class, I am completely drenched in sweat. My heart rate has been up to 85% of its maximum for a good share of that time. By the time I get home, take a bath, and eat dinner (fixed by my wonderful spouse!), all those good endorphins have kicked in.

 

As I was spinning tonight, I thought about the way that life sometimes feels a bit like the spinning of a roulette wheel – the high points and the low moments of life appearing a bit randomly. This past week has seen some of both. Last Friday I learned that Brian Fleury, the athletic director at the Delbarton School, had lost his 20-year battle with Hodgkins Lymphoma at the age of 39. “Fleur,” as my son Jonathan always called him, was an icon in the local sports world. I knew him initially just from reading the sports pages of the local paper. An immensely gifted athlete in high school, he went on to play college baseball. It was during college that he was initially stricken with the cancer. I got to know him better when Jon enrolled at Delbarton in 1995. Like many other students, Jon idolized Mr. Fleury. He was a great English teacher and a fabulous coach. But most of all he was a shining example to all of those teenage boys of true courage and masculinity. He openly adored his wife and his son Timmy. He blogged from his hospital bed when his treatments kept him from being around people. He fought his nausea to be on the baseball field coaching. We saw him regularly at Delbarton hockey games. A few words from Mr. Fleury could calm down any unruly behavior from the student rooting section. And he fought this disease for so long that, at some level, I wanted to believe he would keep winning the fight. I am grateful for his presence in my life and in Jonathan’s life. Many people who live twice as long don’t have nearly the influence as he did. And hopefully he is now indeed in a place “where sorrow and pain are no more, neither sighing, but life everlasting.”

 

Interspersed with that news was the joy of a flying visit from my daughter Meg who came from Oakland, CA to be a bridesmaid in her friend Sarah’s wedding. Sarah and Meg have been friends since kindergarten. Even after Sarah moved away in third grade, they have kept in touch. We often refer to Sarah affectionately as “our other daughter” so it was wonderful to witness her marriage to a man who so evidently adores her. The groom, a native of Tunisia, has a truly international background and the wedding was bilingual in French and English with conversations happening in several other languages at the reception. It was full of life and vitality and the hopes of young people as they make a lifetime commitment to each other.

 

So how does this all relate to a spin class? The physical exercise offers my mind space to process the thoughts and emotions and the sweat carries away toxins, leaving me better able to accept the balance of the cycles of life and death that are an ever present part of existence. It helps me regain my equilibrium. Not bad for 45 minutes of pedaling.