I definitely have another 5 paragraphs to write about stupid spin class. If the goal is to stay on the beat of the music, but only 7 super fit front row people can actually do that and the rest of us are out of sync but trying our best (well “our” is used loosely, because I’m not working that hard for anyone), WHY GO SO FAST? I spent one class stomping on every other beat during fast songs, and afterward overheard a woman say to her friend (about me… it’s dark in there and they didn’t realize it was me), “Sorry there wasn’t someone good in front of you.”
SORRY THERE WASN’T SOMEONE GOOD IN FRONT OF YOU. Nice, Soul Sisters.
I will never be a whoo-hooing exerciser. Even at my peak of athleticism as a 12-year-old state champion-winning gymnast, my coaches would chastise me for having zero stamina. I would try to stifle my gasps for air after one floor exercise routine like some sort of preteen smoker. If the coaches noticed, it would land me 10 minutes of jumping rope or terrible sprints between leg lifts and pull ups. And it never worked. My body prefers rest. I’m endorphin-resistant.
Last night I made Kyra’s jerk chicken dinner for 5 yummy-sound-making boys. (Secret recipe shared only with those in her lucky inner circle.) Handsome Bernie drove 2 hours to spend 10 with me and I am loved. I woke up with the birds completely energized and happy, and I mounted that bike with all of the best intentions. But after only 10 minutes of hellll yeaahhhhs from a tattooed 20 year old shouted over frenetic club music and I was outta there. Am I the only nutcase whose mood is crushed by cardio? Maybe not. Maybe that’s why they keep it so dark in there. One shared FUCK THIS look with a fellow cycler, and I could Pied Piper a whole gaggle of moms out of the studio and over to Dunks.
I’ll get back on that bike again. I’ll never love it, I’ll never whoo hoo, and I certainly will never pair skin tight leggings with a half shirt and call that an outfit. The adorable, taut-belly-baring desk girl asked me if everything was OK as I was ripping off the Velcro sneakers (and gasping and sweating) after only three songs. It took every bit of restraint not to say…
“There wasn’t someone good in front of me.”
Left right left right left right LEFT SPIN CLASS EARLY…
Shout-out to the mighty state of Maryland! Better get that leap, girl! 🙂
We need to get you a new cardio… Zumba?
Back to the pool…
Hahaha, I truly enjoyed this! Thanks for making me giggle. Had some of those exact thoughts and feelings in spin classes I’ve attended 🙂
I tried out a dance cardio class once at my old gym. I made so many trips to the back of the studio for my water bottle that one of the latecomers in the back row audibly sighed, marched forward and took my spot in the middle of the room, shaking her head all the while.
I feel like the kind of people who feel the need to criticize other people not being “good” enough at exercise have lost sight of why we’re there. No one should ever be judged for making an effort. Sure, offer constructive feedback on form and technique if necessary, but don’t fault someone for trying.
If the Soul Sisters need so badly to have some little Tour-de-France-ready rubber person on the bike in front of them at all times to stay motivated, then they can get to class early and plant themselves in front of the instructor. Problem solved.
During my only experience at the cycling mecca the fabulous instructor jazz danced over to me, instructed me on how I was doing it wrong (which I could not understand over the THUMP THUMP THUMP music and also HOW DO YOU RIDE A BIKE WRONG), and when I didn’t self-correct said, “just-saying, you’re making it harder” shrugged, and danced back to his podium cycle throne. After class he asked me how I liked it. I told him I’d never, ever go back. And I never did. These classes are not for everyone, and certainly not for me.
I love this post! why don’t you just swim with a noodle laps for 50 minutes a day like I do.No fuss or muss!!! carol
Went back to the pool today. It’s much, much better.
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I love any cardio that I set the pace to. If there’s a good soundtrack (according to my own musical tastes, bien sûr), I can get my heart rate up for at least 30 minutes and stay happy. Anyone else’s rhythm just doesn’t work for me. I’d quit that class and stick to the pool!