This morning I faced down one of my long-standing fears: spinning class. For the uninitiated, spinning is indoor cycling on a special stationary bike, in a group setting, with an instructor that talks you through moves designed to simulate riding on different terrains. It is touted as one the highest calorie burn workouts you can do, and the creator, Johnny G, has achieved cult-like status among his ‘disciples’. He invented spinning as a convenient and quick way to train for races - and with the cold weather coming on, I need to find an alternative to outdoor cycling to keep up with my triathlon training.
I have wanted to try spinning for years - devotees rave about the calorie burn and the toning, and their physiques certainly speak for themselves. But I have observed a few classes (from a safe distance on a nearby treadmill) and was skeptical about whether I could actually keep up with the pace. During class, which takes place in a very dim (read: creepy) room, there is a lot of grunting and yelling going on. The seats are narrow and hard. Really narrow, and really hard. All of the participants are drenched in sweat within minutes. In fact, most instructors leave the door to the spinning room open during class so the humidity doesn't get so high it rains.
And of course virtually everyone in the class has a rock-hard body and carries an air of intensity and determination that quite frankly intimidates the hell out of me. They all wear skimpy, form fitting clothes - some even have special shoes that look really uncomfortable. Normally, I have no objection to uncomfortable shoes - think pointy toes and 4-inch stiletto heels - but these fancy cycling shoes are anything but pretty, and I doubt they will do much to show off my pedicure:
Are you kidding me? These things are U-G-L-Y-you-ain’t-got-no-alibi ugly. They make my MBTs look almost sexy.
Shoes aside, I was just plain scared and intimidated, and had built my fear up to mammoth proportions. But this fitness journey I'm on is all about changing my way of life, and facing fear is a big part of that process. So this weekend I decided it was time to (wo)man-up and just go. At my husband's advice, I got myself a gel seat cover (seriously, those seats are HARD) and picked a 45-minute class early on Saturday morning in hopes that it wouldn't be too packed with regulars.
I arrived early to get a good spot, then sort of slunk towards the back row and claimed a bike near the door in case I needed to beat a hasty retreat. I tried to adjust the seat and handlebars on my own, did it wrong (almost tipped the bike over on myself in the process) and then found a kind woman in the front row to help me set up. She told me to just go at my own pace, regardless of what the rest of the class was doing, and reminded me that everyone is a beginner at some point. Wise advice, that. The instructor, Toni, was also encouraging, and the woman on the bike next to me was very kind and supportive. So far, so good. I got my gel seat cover situated, and found that the seat was still really hard. Sigh.
Class started, nice easy pedaling - hey, I can do this! - and then....then...all hell broke loose. The instructor started yelling things like 'Gimmee some tension - I need more tension' and this weird guy a couple bikes to my left started yelling 'WOO' at random intervals. WTF? Get out of the saddle, lean forward, focus, go half your max, gimmee some tension...I was so confused. In an effort not to look like a complete idiot, I just copied whatever the guy in front of me did. The class was really hard, and there were several times that I just couldn't keep up. But the instructor came over a couple times to give me some tips, and the kind woman next to me said I was doing 'fabulous'. After about 30 minutes my legs were so shaky that I could no longer stand up on the bike so I just stayed seated and changed the tension on the bike when she shouted (all the while trying to ignore the fact that my butt bones were screaming in pain). The music was great (AC/DC, Pink Floyd, Guns-n-Roses), and LOUD - just the way I like it - and at the 40 minute mark I thought "Wow, I just made it through my first spin class and survived! Nothing left but the cool-down!". That's when the instructor announced we would be going for a full hour...
After class, I hopped on a treadmill at a nice easy pace and walked for about 15 minutes to loosen up my legs and reflect on the morning's accomplishment. Then I caught up with Ken, who was just getting out of a step class in the next room, and gave him my verdict: Challenging but fun. I'll definitely do it again - hopefully regularly. And it feels amazing to have faced down my fear and survived. But wow, does my butt hurt!!!! And I'm not wearing those stupid shoes until Kate Spade comes out with a line of cycling gear.
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