adventures in exercise: spin class ed.

Once upon a time in college, I took a spin class.

I don't think it went well. I can't say that for sure, but since the only memories I retain about the experience are the sensation of excruciating pain and severe strobe-light-induced nausea, it leads me to believe that spin class wasn't really my thing. Ever since that class, I've had a pretty extreme fear and aversion to spin classes. I see you in there on your bikes going nowhere. Have fun getting skinny. I'll be out here doing ANYTHING THAT ISN'T THAT.

But at some point you just get sick of letting your fears run your life. I mean, choosing workout classes isn't really a Real Life Problem, per se, but it is something I do a couple of times a week. And it started annoying me that I automatically ruled out half of the classes offered at convenient times at my gym because they happen to be spin classes. Why? Based on one fuzzy memory of something I tried over a decade ago and didn't like? What if I used that logic on everything in life? One bad taco=NEVER EAT MEXICAN FOOD AGAIN? Um, no. One mealy apple=NEVER EAT FRUIT AGAIN? This is terrible logic.

So yesterday I decided to conquer my fears and take a spin class. Here's some of the logical facts I used to convince myself to try it:

1. I like riding my (real) bike. So spinning won't be that bad, plus there's no risk of dogs chasing after me and trying to kill me! Or getting hit by a car!

2. Low impact. This is important when you're anciently old like me.

3. Summer=no/less college kids=less judgy people in spin classes. Good time to try it out.

4. The Biggest Loser contestants that seem to maintain the healthiest lifestyles post-show all do spinning. Therefore it must be great. I will probably get skinny after one class!

5. I'm 80% sure they don't have a strobe light (public enemy #1) in the spin room at this gym.

6. I'm in pretty good shape. Surely this won't be that bad. Maybe I was just really out of shape in college (that's not remotely true, but I'm not beyond lying to myself just to be convincing).

7. It's only an hour. I can do anything for an hour.

With all of those thoughts resonating in my head and Matt dragging me by the arm, I bravely entered the spin studio. Matt's a relative expert at spinning, having taken two classes in the last five months, so I was glad to have him there to show me the ropes.

And then it started. And then I died. And now I am Ghost Erika on Jelly Legs, coming from beyond the grave to report back that ALL OF MY LOGIC FAILED ME and my college memories were 100% accurate. Spinning is NOT FUN.

I mean, I survived the class. But at what cost? Why all the ancillary pain, Spin Class? I understand pain related to muscles getting stronger. I accept the pain in my thighs and calves-- it is for a purpose. But why the awful tiny seats that cause horrible and fruitless butt pain?!?! Why the weird pedals and clip things that make my feet fall asleep while I'm furiously pedaling, the weirdest paradox ever? These things I cannot accept. I don't appreciate EXTRA pain that has no purpose. Ugh.

So...yeah. A decade and twenty-five extra pounds later, I still don't like spin class. But despite that, I think I'll try it at least once more before I swear it off for another decade or six. I have padded bike shorts that I wear when I ride my bike outside...maybe those would help with the butt pain situation. And maybe I'll Google and see if I can figure out how to get my feet to not fall asleep. And maybe I'll grow miraculously stronger overnight so that my legs don't want to break off after like...the warm up. I mean, I might be lazy and inclined to complain, but I'm not a quitter. So I want to feel like I really gave spinning a fair chance. But seriously. Ugh. Why do people like this??!