We hadn’t even warmed up yet and sweat was already dripping down my back. I started pedaling and in my peppiest spin instructor voice said, “This is a forty-five-minute interval ride. There are two rolling hills, a bunch of sprints, some jumps, and one Tabata interval, which I’ll explain in more detail when we get there. Trust me. You’ll know when we get there.” My evil laugh morphed into choking. I grabbed desperately at my water bottle, managing to spill at least two mouthfuls onto my lap. If I couldn’t even drink water in the guy’s presence, how the hell was I going to get through this ride without losing my shit—like literally shit my gray-with-pink-swirl-designs exercise pants? I swallowed hard. The ride must go on. Inhale love. Exhale stress.

It helped that he chose a bike in the back row. Even when we stood up and jogged in second position, he was blocked by Lenny, my new favorite regular by virtue of his broad torso and super long legs, which enabled me to pretend Finn wasn’t right there behind him. My playlist also served as a sort of meditation to get me through the first half of the ride. I focused on the rhythm of the music to turn off my brain as best as I could.

And then we reached the halfway mark. This was where I usually jumped off the bike and walked around the room to subtly correct form and shout out kudos to my hardest workers. But what if my legs gave out when I approached Finn’s bike? Or I had a sweat mark on my crotch? Or I had a wicked case of BO? I discreetly brought my nose to my armpit as we climbed to “If You Really Love Me” by Stevie Wonder. So far, so good.

I couldn’t walk around and conveniently avoid his area. Only Finn would notice, but he was the only one who mattered. No. Hiding wouldn’t do. I had to behave like he was no different from any other student in my class. Except he wasn’t remotely like anyone else. He was special, to me anyway.

The song ended, followed by the beginning notes of “Paris” by the Chainsmokers. I purposely chose it for sprints on a hill. It was the perfect spot in the ride to get up and encourage my class to turn up the resistance dial, push outside their comfort zones, and go, go, go! I should have been up already, but my body felt glued to the seat. I gave myself five seconds to make it happen. I glanced down at my legs…still in the seat. My inner voice screamed for me to stop being a wimp and get the hell up. This time I listened.