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…