Not the class you probably think of when you hear spin class. No, this was spin class on bikes. Holy Moly.
This is my second week of spin class, and because I didn't feel like throwing up after it this time, I stuck around for a bit and chatted with a few of the people in it. One of them has cancer and wants to do a triathalon. One of them is a mother of two and wants to be fit for her kids. About six of them are all teachers from the same school who want to be a fit staff. Me? Well, I have this really cute pair of size fours in my closet...
I know, I know, it's the most shallow reason of all! But it's my reason! I was so skinny when I was a young adult. I mean, I'm still young, and I'm still an adult, but I guess a younger adult than I am now before I had kids and freedom - I mean, free time. And started eating on a regular basis. And make enough money to go grocery shopping. And quit smoking - thereby not purchasing $11/pack cigarettes every few days. And bought a car.
There's something about not owning a car, not having enough money to choose between your pack-a-day habit and food (you pick the smokes) and walking absolutely everywhere that makes you *really* thin. I mean, really, really thin. The healthy part is questionable.
But now I'm not thin. I'm officially the fattest I've ever, ever been in my entire life. I can't keep going this way! I'm going to breech 200 soon! So two weeks ago, I started spin class. I'm trying to eat healthier and all that great stuff, but let's be honest, it's easy to fall off that wagon. It's so easy to be like, oh, it's just one bag of chips, which leads to, oh, it's just one chocolate bar, one bowl of ice cream, one package of gummies and one extra pant size. The key is really the exercise, I think, which sucks because I really despise exercising.
But alas, those size fours, my reason for working out, are not going to fit around my thigh if I don't get this in check, so I shelled out $70 to be yelled at by a ridiculously handsome British instructor in a group of 12 sweaty, grunting women as we complain about pained crotches, sore thighs, lack of air, and really uncomfortable bike seats. Did I mention the pained crotches?
But dudes, I'm doing it. I'm on my bike every Tuesday for 45 minutes, which I know isn't much, but it's a start. And we're not just leisurely biking. We're increasing tension and standing up when we bike (how on earth did I do that so much as a kid?!), and doing sprints and hard climbs and more sprints and more hard climbs. The first week, I stopped for a breather under the guise of needing to pee. I felt like I was going to vomit. This week? I didn't get off the bike once. I stood when everybody else stood. I did sprints when everybody else did sprints. My underwear were soaked in the back because of all the sweating I did.
But I did it. I stink, I'm tired, I'm achey, and my crotch really hurts (did I mention the bike seats are not comfortable?), but I did it.
Two weeks down, ten to go. Size four pants, I'm looking at you.