Jesse Collins, and then some.

A few days ago, I was lamenting that I would soon have to give up my after-work pint as I was losing the battle of the bulge. My good friend Barry who like me is a smoker-who-doesn’t-smoke-anymore and was inspirational to quite a few of us in that regard, used his usual delicacy to throw down the gauntlet.

“You know, if we got off our arses we could have both - drop twenty pounds and enjoy a good meal and a pint now and then.” He then issued a more specific challenge: if I sussed out the schedule, he’d join me for an early morning “spin”. It so happens that equidistant between our houses is a great bike shop that offers spinning sessions. I’d heard about spinning from Carol, who is a spinning-zealot, but I was always a little apprehensive. Images of myself receiving CPR in a puddle of my own sweat while a bunch of yuppies dressed in multi-coloured lycra looked on always kept me out of the spin cycle.

But Barry’s challenge pushed me over the edge.

Cut to he and I, bleary-eyed and slightly hung-over, standing in the dark of early morning, wearing gym clothes that were wrinkled from 4 years of rolled-up slumber. We were greeted by Joanne, a lithe instructor who recognized our virginity and declared good-heartedly that we would probably “cough up a lung.”

But we didn’t. In fact, I have to admit that while it was a bit of work, all in all—it felt great. I began to understand why people love it. The music, the push and pull of Joanne’s pacing, the communal experience of people with varying fitness levels virtual-riding together: it’s invigorating.

I always shy away from making pronouncements of conversion. But we did commit to going again, after some business travel and scheduling snafus get out of the way, and I think we will. In fact, I think we’ll go quite a few times, and maybe be a bit better off as a result.

The last thing Barry said to me, noting that I had picked up the tab and he would repay me on the next go ’round, was that as long as he owed me, I’d never be poor. Well, I do owe him. I owe him for prompting me to get off my arse and giving spinning a whirl. It’s great.

Since I’ve been too swamped to write a decent post, I thought I’d post a video of someone with too much time on their hands.

Enjoy.

Today’s the day that night is as long as day. The spring equinox in the northern hemisphere is the day when you can balance an egg on its end and more importantly, begin to feel like the snow’s going to melt.

It is going to melt, isn’t it?

Peter Flaschner — who always seem to find the most inspiring and eclectic slices-of-life — turned me on to this extraordinary presentation.

Anyone familiar with the Ted Talks site knows that this conference of Ideas Worth Spreading is a bag of wisdom-nuggets. Few are as powerful as this one.

It’s 18 minutes long; it’s a moment of true beauty.

From the Washington Post comes this hilarious exposé of Hillary’s experience in Bosnis, which she describes as being on the edge of the warzone, in constant fear of sniper fire. Sinbad, who along with Sheryl Crow, accompanyed the First Lady claims there was no tension, other than wondering where they were eating next. 

In her Iowa stump speech, Clinton also said, "We used to say in the White House that if a place is too dangerous, too small or too poor, send the First Lady."

Say what? As Sinbad put it: "What kind of president would say, ‘Hey, man, I can’t go ’cause I might get shot so I’m going to send my wife…oh, and take a guitar player and a comedian with you.’"

Sinbad Unloads on Hillary Clinton - The Sleuth