I began learning something new today when I attended the spin class on campus. I have never used the wellness center, nor done a spin class before. In fact, it has been a measurable amount of time since I deliberately exercised. Thus, it was a new and slightly uncomfortable experience. The first time I do anything is always difficult and, if it's public, a little embarrassing.
When I came in Sherri (the instructor was peddling already, but no one else was in the room. I asked her for some direction about choosing a bike. She was so accommodating, and walked me through getting a bike, adjusting the sizes, and getting started.
Three things stood out about this class. One was the instructor's engagement with us, and her expectation for reciprocation. When she asked a question, she really wanted a response! She said she didn't like feeling all alone up there. I bet that's true for all teachers, but I'm so used to learning fitness by DVD, that I kind of assumed the lesson would go on as planned, even if I wasn't actively participating.
The second thing was the road map she gave at the beginning of class. She told us exactly what to expect, when the big workloads were coming, how many there would be, and what kinds of activities we would do. This is so helpful with exercise. I can always push myself a bit harder when I know there will be a reprieve. The intermittent breaks carried me through the intense climbs.
The last thing I was struck by was the way she encouraged deeper reflection throughout the class. It wasn't just about working hard, but about getting in touch with your inner strength. During one song, she said, ride for someone who can't ride. Initially, I thought it was kind of corny, but she followed it up with, "at least you can be here". That is true for many aspects of my life right now. This program is hard, motherhood is hard, life is just sometimes hard, but at least I can be here.
09/30/12 This week I wanted to enjoy the last bit of nice weather and some fall foliage, so instead of the spin class on campus, I tested my stamina at corner canyon . I called my friend Brian, who works in the cycling department at REI, to see if he would be willing to come with me and give me some tips, especially for uphill. I did a bit of mountain biking years ago, but I've never been good at going uphill, even if the not very steep ones. Plus, the biking that I did was in Seattle, which is at sea level. Elevation a huge difference. He was game. Before we got started, Brian gave me a quick review in bike maintenance. H e made me check my tires' air pressure, oil the chain, and adjust the seat height (apparently it's supposed to be much higher than I had it). The first part of the ride is slow climbing. Brian said to drink water regularly even though I didn't feel thirsty. He also gave me a tablet to put in my water that is supposed to help the body absorb it better. Another tip he gave was not to stop even though my legs were telling me to. The break wouldn't really help, he said, and starting out was harder than keeping on. He told me to put it on the easiest gear and just try to ride through the pain. Standing up every now and then helps use different muscles and give the tired ones a break. It took what seemed like forever to get to the top--well beyond the hour I was going to spend on learning this week--but it was totally worth it. The colors were beautiful. It smelled so good up there. Most excitingly, I made it to the top, and got to enjoy the thrilling ride down.
I went back to spin class today. It was easier today than the first time. I can't imagine that I would be better at it after one lesson. Maybe I just didn't hold back as much because I knew what the full class would be like and that I could handle it, or maybe I was less stressed because our class load got lighter in the last week. Whatever the case, it felt good. I did observe something about my learning. One thing I didn't love about the first week was that the instructor would play music for us to spin to, but she talked through much of it. She often asks for responses, and guides us along with instruction. Today she played a classical piece (Architect of the Mind)and let us close our eyes and meditate on the music. This is one of my favorite things to do when I'm not exercising (one of my least favorite things to do, if I'm being honest), and it made the experience so much more enjoyable for those few minutes. I really wish she could just use hand signals to tell us when to change the pedals, and create a playlist. The motivational talk doesn't help. I have always liked to have some time to work things out alone before jumping into a group, maybe I'll feel more social next week.
For my learning something project this week, I continued with spin class on campus. Sheri warned us at the beginning of class that it was going to be a tough one, and we would have to dig deep. I had to dig deep just to go, so it took a lot to stay. Sheri said something that sparked my interest a little bit into class. We were listening to a heavy metal song, and to motivate us, she said "get angry". Just earlier, on the way to school, I was thinking about the teaching sessions I've been having with Greysen, and what it is in him that makes him so quick to anger. I wondered what the biological purpose of anger might be. Other emotions are an acceptable, or at least common part of our everyday lives, and I can take a stab at their genetic function. Sadness keeps us depressed and inactive at a time when we might be too distracted to function safely, happiness motivates us to be productive. Anger has become such an unacceptable emotion that it took Sheri saying to get angry as a motivator to make me recall our not so long ago history when war and battle were part of everyday life. Anger could make a life or death difference. Just because we live in a society that [usually] strives for peace, doesn't mean that our biology has caught up. Further, maybe it shouldn't. Just because we're striving for a peaceful society currently doesn't mean that's what we're going to end up with. Rage may be a necessary commodity of future generations. However, for our purposes here and now, we must learn to keep it in check. I noticed another thing in cycling that is common in the class. Sheri will offer specific geographic locations, such as Emigration Canyon, or Wasatch Boulevard for us to visualize exercising in. I hate to admit this, but I don't like the outdoors, and these references make it harder. I would much rather close my eyes and get wrapped up in the music, forgetting that I am on a bike, than picture climbing up an actual steep hill with wind blowing on me, and cars zooming by. I know, it's so un-salt lake-y to feel this way... What do these things say about my learning style? I like to hypothesize and speculate, I like to day dream, when faced with something that I don't enjoy, my first instinct is to walk away, and I need to get in touch with my nature-based learner.
ReplyDelete09/26/12
I began learning something new today when I attended the spin class on campus. I have never used the wellness center, nor done a spin class before. In fact, it has been a measurable amount of time since I deliberately exercised. Thus, it was a new and slightly uncomfortable experience. The first time I do anything is always difficult and, if it's public, a little embarrassing.
When I came in Sherri (the instructor was peddling already, but no one else was in the room. I asked her for some direction about choosing a bike. She was so accommodating, and walked me through getting a bike, adjusting the sizes, and getting started.
Three things stood out about this class. One was the instructor's engagement with us, and her expectation for reciprocation. When she asked a question, she really wanted a response! She said she didn't like feeling all alone up there. I bet that's true for all teachers, but I'm so used to learning fitness by DVD, that I kind of assumed the lesson would go on as planned, even if I wasn't actively participating.
The second thing was the road map she gave at the beginning of class. She told us exactly what to expect, when the big workloads were coming, how many there would be, and what kinds of activities we would do. This is so helpful with exercise. I can always push myself a bit harder when I know there will be a reprieve. The intermittent breaks carried me through the intense climbs.
The last thing I was struck by was the way she encouraged deeper reflection throughout the class. It wasn't just about working hard, but about getting in touch with your inner strength. During one song, she said, ride for someone who can't ride. Initially, I thought it was kind of corny, but she followed it up with, "at least you can be here". That is true for many aspects of my life right now. This program is hard, motherhood is hard, life is just sometimes hard, but at least I can be here.
09/30/12
ReplyDeleteThis week I wanted to enjoy the last bit of nice weather and some fall foliage, so instead of the spin class on campus, I tested my stamina at corner canyon . I called my friend Brian, who works in the cycling department at REI, to see if he would be willing to come with me and give me some tips, especially for uphill. I did a bit of mountain biking years ago, but I've never been good at going uphill, even if the not very steep ones. Plus, the biking that I did was in Seattle, which is at sea level. Elevation a huge difference. He was game.
Before we got started, Brian gave me a quick review in bike maintenance. H e made me check my tires' air pressure, oil the chain, and adjust the seat height (apparently it's supposed to be much higher than I had it). The first part of the ride is slow climbing. Brian said to drink water regularly even though I didn't feel thirsty. He also gave me a tablet to put in my water that is supposed to help the body absorb it better. Another tip he gave was not to stop even though my legs were telling me to. The break wouldn't really help, he said, and starting out was harder than keeping on. He told me to put it on the easiest gear and just try to ride through the pain. Standing up every now and then helps use different muscles and give the tired ones a break.
It took what seemed like forever to get to the top--well beyond the hour I was going to spend on learning this week--but it was totally worth it. The colors were beautiful. It smelled so good up there. Most excitingly, I made it to the top, and got to enjoy the thrilling ride down.
I went back to spin class today. It was easier today than the first time. I can't imagine that I would be better at it after one lesson. Maybe I just didn't hold back as much because I knew what the full class would be like and that I could handle it, or maybe I was less stressed because our class load got lighter in the last week. Whatever the case, it felt good.
ReplyDeleteI did observe something about my learning. One thing I didn't love about the first week was that the instructor would play music for us to spin to, but she talked through much of it. She often asks for responses, and guides us along with instruction. Today she played a classical piece (Architect of the Mind)and let us close our eyes and meditate on the music. This is one of my favorite things to do when I'm not exercising (one of my least favorite things to do, if I'm being honest), and it made the experience so much more enjoyable for those few minutes. I really wish she could just use hand signals to tell us when to change the pedals, and create a playlist. The motivational talk doesn't help. I have always liked to have some time to work things out alone before jumping into a group, maybe I'll feel more social next week.
For my learning something project this week, I continued with spin class on campus. Sheri warned us at the beginning of class that it was going to be a tough one, and we would have to dig deep. I had to dig deep just to go, so it took a lot to stay.
ReplyDeleteSheri said something that sparked my interest a little bit into class. We were listening to a heavy metal song, and to motivate us, she said "get angry". Just earlier, on the way to school, I was thinking about the teaching sessions I've been having with Greysen, and what it is in him that makes him so quick to anger. I wondered what the biological purpose of anger might be. Other emotions are an acceptable, or at least common part of our everyday lives, and I can take a stab at their genetic function. Sadness keeps us depressed and inactive at a time when we might be too distracted to function safely, happiness motivates us to be productive. Anger has become such an unacceptable emotion that it took Sheri saying to get angry as a motivator to make me recall our not so long ago history when war and battle were part of everyday life. Anger could make a life or death difference. Just because we live in a society that [usually] strives for peace, doesn't mean that our biology has caught up. Further, maybe it shouldn't. Just because we're striving for a peaceful society currently doesn't mean that's what we're going to end up with. Rage may be a necessary commodity of future generations. However, for our purposes here and now, we must learn to keep it in check.
I noticed another thing in cycling that is common in the class. Sheri will offer specific geographic locations, such as Emigration Canyon, or Wasatch Boulevard for us to visualize exercising in. I hate to admit this, but I don't like the outdoors, and these references make it harder. I would much rather close my eyes and get wrapped up in the music, forgetting that I am on a bike, than picture climbing up an actual steep hill with wind blowing on me, and cars zooming by. I know, it's so un-salt lake-y to feel this way...
What do these things say about my learning style? I like to hypothesize and speculate, I like to day dream, when faced with something that I don't enjoy, my first instinct is to walk away, and I need to get in touch with my nature-based learner.