Friday, November 12, 2010
I have just one thing to say: the spinning bike is the most uncomfortable apparatus that has ever been invented since the dawn of man. By far. Obviously, I took my first spinning class today. No, I don't know why it has taken me so long to try it. Yes, I understand that everyone but me in the world has spun (perhaps not the appropriate past tense). I am a total gym rat, but I had successfully avoided those dark sweaty rooms like the plague . . . until today. I figured today was a good day to "put the bike pedal to the metal" as it were. Let me tell you now. Spinning hurts. Not muscle hurts, but bones-on-a-really-pointy-bike-seat hurts. For real.
I went in and picked a bike toward the rear of the room and told the instructor that I was a newbie. The guy looked like my friend Chris' uncle Vito from Jersey. Sixty, grey, and balding with the inimitable Jersey accent and swagger. He gave me a quick spinning tutorial (hand positions 1-3 and what to do if my foot slips out of the cage-like contraption on the front of the pedal), told me to "have fun, doll", and then we were off. I guessed after we started that they don't use lights in spinning classes, because we spent the whole class in a semi-dark room. Maybe so you can't see yourself? I was a little confused, but I tuned in to the teacher and tried to get the hang of it. We spent the next hour sitting, standing, and sprinting on the bikes. By the half hour, I preferred the standing (even though my quads and glutes disagreed with me) because by butt bones hurt from the horn-shaped seat. "Can I get a cushy one?", I thought? Unfortunately, there was very little variation in our spinning exercises. There are only so many times you can "go up a hill" or change from standing to sitting (which kills the quads). My mind started to wander. Then a remix of "Pump Up the Jam" came blasting through the speakers. I suddenly was reminded of my younger years when I would go into my room, close my eyes, and just listen to music (Paula Abdul's Straight Up, anyone?). Maybe that's why it was so dark. I started to maybe see why people could potentially like this torture.
After an hour, I felt proud to have explored a new form of workout, but a little disappointed. I guess I had imagined that more happened behind those caliginous spinning doors. It's always good to switch up your workouts, though, so I felt good knowing that I have another workout option for the future. Maybe I'll do it again one day when I want to feel like a teenager again. I walked out and hopped on the treadmill.