Tune in today to see if she can … survive a spin class.
As a new gym goer, I am quietly, privately geeking out about all the classes. I love trying new things as it is, but a paid membership and knowledgeable instructor are even greater incentive to jump into a room full of strangers and sweat profusely. But I tend to obsess a bit and get anxious about finding the lay of the land.I really wanted to try a spin class. Because I have no experience and have not, for that matter, had a bike between my legs once in the past two years, I knew I was going to need reinforcements. I lined up both a coworker and my brother to meet me. Why is it so much easier to do new things when someone you know is there? What is that about? Anyway, it doesn’t matter now because both backed out by the end of the work day and I was thinking I would just go row. And then I thought, “You chicken shit. They aren’t going to help you pedal. Be bold and go in the direction of your dreams already!” Not that spinning is my dream, being skinnier and badass is, but I’m getting side tracked …So, I went. Right away people were moving bikes around and panic set in. In these situations, I tend to smile an obnoxiously large, twitchy smile and scan the room for the nicest face. I locked eyes with an older gentleman.“So, I have no clue what to do. Do I just grab any bike?”
“This is like my third class. But I think you want one of the red ones with the RPM reader,” he said.
Oh man … here we go … I don’t know what an RPM reader is and I have no clue how to move this bike. Newness makes me itchy.The instructor helped me adjust my seat height, handlebars and whatever the word is for how far forward your seat sits … fore-something (not skin or play). And then I clicked my toes into the little cages and it was time to start spinning. About 3 (yes, just 3) minutes in I was feeling good, and then she announced it was time to “come out of the saddle” and jog. Now, dear friends, first of all, I used to ride horses and that strip of pleather is not a saddle. No sir. It was at this point I realized two things: 1) I hadn’t been in my target heart rate zone in 18 months, and 2) this was going to kick my ass.
Thoughts that ran through my mind during CycleFit:
Are there special shoes for this, too? What a conspiracy.
There is no way she turned her dial to the right.
I need to stand up, I need to stand up, I need to stand up.
Is the bike moving? Oh my gosh, if this thing tips I am canceling my membership, effective immediately.
I have to sit down, I have to sit down, I have to sit down
If she says, “Here comes the hill,” one more time …
Is that sweat or is my crotch crying?
Can a person’s ass just break in two, right down the middle? I think it’s
happening.
In the end, I survived. And I will go back for sure … after my undercarriage heals, of course.
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