In 2011, with my commitment to being fit, and the looming notion of the white dress I will have to wear, I have become a gym rat.
Ok, gym rat is really way too aggressive of a title for me in that I hate the gym, hate most things about being there, curse in my head throughout my whole workout and leave as soon as I have done the mandatory time I prescribe myself of an hour. I guess gym rat also doesn’t work since I don’t own the seemingly staple uniform of a full lulu lemon outfit complete with a cute color coordinated headband, I don’t have my own gloves for weight lifting, nor did I, up until recently own headphones suitable for running- or a bra suitable for it for that matter.
But I go, begrudgingly.
So by that effect, I am a gym rat. I diligently show up every single day less 1 day of rest and don my Joe Fresh workout gear (that I finally purchased last month after feeling more than inadequate amid the designer gym girls), pull my hair back in a pony and work it.
This is how I met spinning.
I was headed to my yoga class because, although I despise everything that is exercise, I have actually fallen in love with yoga and use it as a twice a week workout to reward myself for the rest of the god awful crap I do like squats.
So, heading into yoga on a Monday night and the class is jammed. So full in fact that I could not find a space on the floor large enough to accommodate my sun warrior stance. I hate being smushed into a gym studio forced to have other people breathing down my neck so I opt to try anther class. Fortunately, my gym offers many so I walk in the next room- the spin room. Since the class was about 5 minutes in I really didn’t have time to debate my choice and hopped onto a bike- failing to adjust the necessary elements which would lead to intense subsequent arm and back pain in the days to follow- and span.
About 5 minutes further in I wanted to die. I thought to myself, "self, this is just what hell must be like". A crazed jacked up woman screaming at you from the front of the room to “give it all you’ve got” while people pedal while literally grunting everywhere. The man beside me was sweating so badly in the first 10 minutes that he had formed a full puddle on the ground and the girl to my other side, well, lets just say she was certainly not wearing deodorant and sweating just as much as the human pool man.
Plus, my vagina hurt. There, I said it. I felt like I was being impregnated by the bike seat and my ass was numb.
I was just about to dismount and scuttle out of the room when the girl in front of me turned around- obviously, it was a friend and she was with another friend and I thought to myself “if I leave now, they will know I am a fraud”
- as a side note, and back to the gym rat idea-I love for people to think I am hard core. I LOVE being able to answer the “what are you doing tonight” question with “just hitting the gym”- it makes me feel like Hercules. As such, peer pressure always gets the better of me at the gym and anytime I see someone I know, I have to work that much harder.
But, once I made the commitment to stay in the class and ride on, it went by super fast.
The great thing about spin is that it is about 45 minutes, and possibly one of the best all around body workouts out there. You work your ass off, and even if you, like I did in that fateful class, don’t up your resistance and really work it- you are still working like a total crazy hyena bitch. You seriously burn about 400-500 calories in 45 minutes- beat that stairmaster.
Plus, because you are working SO hard, you reach an almost nirvana state of mind and the time just blows by.
Also, they play super good music that helps transport you out of our foot smelling gym room and onto a mountain or somewhere else sexy and inspiring.
So, needless to say, I spin now all the time. Can you imagine how I almost wet myself when I found out that there was spinning in my new office building (and yoga too)!!!!!!
I do 3 days of spinning, 2 yoga and I seriously feel fantastic.
However, it is not all rainbows and butterflies. My vagina stopped hurting after 1 time, my ass has never recovered. I see that the hardcore spinners, the ones that have their own shoes and shit bring padded bike seats or have padded shorts- I think it is so embarrassing but contemplate it every time I pass a sports store- im sure I will cave and buy those stupid diaper shorts sometime.
Anyways, spinning- so great. I took a class last week and the instructor ran it to the soundtrack from Tron. I died.
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