I can’t prove it but I’m pretty sure the help wanted sign read something like this:
Help Wanted: Sadist. Must enjoy inflicting physical pain upon others while listening to upbeat music in a specially designed room and with equipment made specifically for the inducement of such pain. Should be able to take part in said pain yourself while maintaining the ability to talk, yell to those under your ‘care’ and do it all without looking like it bothers you. If you think you have what it takes, please enquire for the job of spin instructor.
Yup, that’s probably what it said. About two weeks ago I thought it would be a good idea to start taking spin classes – you know, where you go in a room with other people and sit on specially designed bicycles that don’t actually go anywhere and proceed to sweat all over them.
I did this for a couple reasons: first, if you haven’t gathered by now, I’m not really that bright; second, a very good friend of mine whom I’m going to call out by name, Riley McAlpine, is one of these minions of hell out in California and she’s told me on a number of occasions that “spinning is great; you’ll love it; it’s so much fun…” the same type of thing you’d expect to hear from a 3-inch imp sitting on your shoulder with a pitchfork talking in your ear. But Riley has actually ridden real bicycles across the whole bloody country a number of times, whereas I have grown doggedly tired looking at a map of the country. So I give her the benefit of all knowledge where biking is concerned.
And, as my primary form of aerobic activity is now biking anyway, I figured, why not? How bad could it possibly be?
Turns out that…it’s not too bad. In fact, Tuesdays and Thursday evenings now are kind of the highlight of my week – or at least what I look forward to the most rather than just sitting around BOB2.0 and hoping someone puts up a something humorous on FaceBook.
Spinning is torturous in that it’s a hard workout and you sweat buckets; but it’s not un-doable – and that’s the magic component that makes it work and makes it fun. There always seems to be a couple folks in class who make me look svelte and they come through it just fine. As far as I can determine, the defribulator on the wall has never once been used. If you’re not in great shape, you don’t spin as fast so it’s not like weight lifting where 100 pounds is a 100 pounds and you either lift it or you don’t. (I don’t)
If you’ve never been to one of these classes and are interested, what you have is essentially a stationary bicycle but much better and with a flywheel mechanism so if you think you want to stop pedaling and coast…you can’t; it keeps pedaling. The other big component on the bike is the knob that adjusts the tension. This knob is our instructor’s favorite thing – especially when turning it clockwise. So with a little upbeat music (Madonna works really well for this and I’m not entirely sure why) and an instructor who every 30 seconds laughs while telling you to pedal faster and turn the tension up, an hour-long workout flies right by.
The best thing about the class is that audience participation is not frowned upon. In fact, I think it’s nice that some people can actually get out sentences while the rest of us (me) are trying desperately to draw breath. A rather portly gent in my class talks nearly as much as the instructor – usually following up her demands for “two full turns to the right” by saying something witty and clever like, “You said left, yes? I don’t want to miss it if you said left…”
Ok, spin class isn’t a night at the Improv, but it’s a convivial atmosphere for a workout. And don’t misunderstand, it is a workout.
In the first 5 minutes of my first class I thought maybe I had gone into the wrong room. “Riley said this was hard…” I thought, “Maybe she’s just trying to make it seem harder because that’s her job…”
Forty-five minutes later, I had run out of water, had two sweat-soaked towels on my handlebars, and thigh muscles which were making promises about me walking funny the next day they were determined to keep. It’s plenty difficult.
But even after only half a dozen spin classes, the difference on a real bike ride is far from negligible. The pedal cadence is smoother and more consistent, the ride a little faster and, let’s face it, the ‘hills’ in spin class are far longer and steeper than anything I’m coming across in San Antonio.
In the end, I don’t know if my instructor or Riley think of themselves as sadistic cyclists or not, and truth be told I don’t really care because as ironic as it is, I think I may be getting somewhere in my quest for better fitness by sitting on bike going nowhere.
PS – Thanks so much to the following people who have already sponsored by bike ride for the Wounded Warrior Project which takes place Nov. 12.
If you are interested in sponsoring me on this ride, I’ve set a goal of $1,000. So far, thanks to the generosity of Lynne and Steve; Scott; Ed; and Jon and Marie, I’m already a quarter of the way to that goal.
If you’d like to help, please visit my donor homepage to learn more. The Wounded Warrior Project helps our veterans who have a lot bigger issues than losing a few pounds. If you can, please consider it. I would also consider it a favor if you could repost the site to your own FB page or send an email to your friends.
http://www.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=447736&lis=0&kntae447736=D37418DC04A240E58F94CC3521DDC2AA&supId=334307797
To learn more about the programs offered to wounded veterans through WWP, please visit:
http://www.woundedwarriorproject.org/programs.aspx
Thanks again.
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