Not Alone

I fessed up to my class this morning. I was in the second act of the now standard three act soliloquy, the juicy middle, when I made an admission. I was, again, pitching the Ten Day Intensive to this new audience, setting the stage, planting the seeds, hoping for a positive, non-verbal response. 

We are ripping through a raucous set, one I call ramping, with all-systems a go. The ramp protocol calls for a plus gear change in resistance every ten seconds over the course of one minute. We do one seated, four minutes in the groove zone and then another standing. We repeated this no-rest sequence for the entire hour. I outline the drill as backstory to more appropriately add the requisite drama to the stunning honesty referenced above, the delivery of which, not surprisingly, happens during the four minutes in GZone because today I could not talk and execute the ramp protocol simultaneously. Not enough oxygenated blood to satisfy both brain and brawn. 

We huff and we puff pushing big wattage numbers up the allegorical hill, sixty seconds worth, then take a blow in the happy place we call the groove zone sweet spot. Then I continue my pitch. 

I am on the Keiser M3 known as the bully pulpit today. It is my show, my speech and my audience. That audience is often known as The Choir. They have heard all this before, they all know the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son and Doubting Thomas as well as their spinning counterparts; Generosity, forgiveness and faith. 

I am rolling with motivational platitudes extolling the virtues of the Ten Day Intensive (TDI) calling diet, exercise and consistency the trinity of change. If you want change, if you want a radical upgrade and if you seek your ultimate self, this is the path, I say with earnest sincerity and zeal. We will do ten days, a double nickel, one thin dime from the wealth of eternity to see what we are truly capable of becoming. Together we can ride that ferry to the top of Rainier. 

I am expecting to see heads aggressively nod, clenched fists raised overhead and a deafening chorus of a cappella approval. I know they ‘see’ what I am selling, but I sense that the time is premature to hand the sign-up pen and point to the dotted line. 

So I double-down. 

Wiping brow with towel I offer my closing argument, the final amen.

I will tell you why this is such a big deal. For the same reasons that makes this very class work, the fact that we, as social animals, find it somehow easier to reach painful emotional and physiological peaks in a group, as a team, than alone. We can share the team commitment while pledging our best efforts and impeccable accountability to one another. This is the strongest force in our universe, a prize won by a very tiny percentage of seekers. It can be ours - if we so desire. Furthermore, I am quite certain that - I could not do it alone. 

Joe Bonamassa ends a blistering guitar solo, the set is done and the music fades along with our complementary work-out. 

I am sure I could not do it alone. Please forgive my weakness.