Thursday, 17 January 2013

Daily Torture

Let's talk spin class- you know, that class that has been all the rage for awhile?  The one where women leave drenched in sweat, where Bridget Jones keels off the bike?  I knew that would jog your memory!  I have been spinning off and on since just before Christmas - specifically doing the Les Mills RPM at my local Goodlife and I am telling you - it is cut throat... everyone jockeys to get their name on the list to secure one of the coveted 16 bikes.  They do not put the list out until 15 minutes before and if there is a line up then you have no hope in hell of getting on a bike.  My gym partner, JWow, and I have it down to a science.  If we get changed before leaving the office and leave at 11:50 then we can make it for a 12:05 class, which then gives us just enough time to switch footwear and ditch our coats (gotta love winter!) and still get a decent bike.

I now strategically arm myself with a waterbottle, a Gatorade and a towel to prop up the extra waterbottle because there is only one holder.  I have had a few incidents where I left a little too light-headed, so the Gatorade and water help to curb that.  Because of my IBS I can only eat a small amount before going to the class, which is likely the reason for feeling a little loopy afterwards.  The first class I attended was what I would call nothing short of a rude awakening.  Not having ever been a lover of bikes even in my childhood, I have never really experienced that bruised, violated feeling in my nether regions, as I have never experienced walking bow legged - until now.  That feeling was almost enough to stop me from ever going again.  However, I went back for more "daily torture"  and thank goodness you eventually adapt to that horribly unforgiving seat.

As for the actual spinning itself - it is bloody awful.  I cannot quite comprehend how anyone enjoys this.  I go because, according to my heart rate monitor, I burn anywhere between 500 and 700 calories and no matter how diligent I may be at lunch hour gym time, nothing pushes me like that little man at the front of the room sweating and singing and yelling "out of the saddle", "attack"!  I am petrified of him calling me out and saying "give it some gear"!  So I go, reluctantly.  Being a redhead I look as if I am mid heart attack throughout and for at least half an hour afterwards.  It is amazing no one has handed me an aspirin!

However, I must admit  that the class is growing on me, afterwards I am always glad I went.  Despite this change of heart, I always walk up to class with a sense of impending doom.  I think of that awful seizing in my quads, the unnatural feeling of sitting on a bike and those random weirdos who feel compelled to yell out the power words in every chorus.  Just so we are clear, in no situation is that normal and everyone in the class is silently cursing you - if you must sing, buy a bike and put it in your basement.  

Today was RPM day and as usual, I was reluctant to go.  However, as we had organized a ladies night where I anticipated ordering a Nutella pizza, I decided the prudent move would be to go to class.  The result?  We burned 541 calories and ate an undisclosed amount of calories sourced from delicious Neapolitan style pizza.

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