Dear Spin Class

Believe it or not, I’ve been fairly consistent with taking spin class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The class starts at 5:30 am. Yup, you heard me, 5:30 in the GD morning. That means that I have to wake up in enough time to get dressed, drink my water, feed the dog, brush my teeth and hair, take a couple puffs of my inhaler, and the most important thing I need to do (also the most time consuming) is to go the bathroom. I can’t stress enough how important it is to me and my body that I am able to go to the bathroom (and by ‘bathroom’, I think you know what I am talking about) before a class as crazy and as stressful as Spin Class. Oh, and I need to have enough time to walk to the gym (which is across the street).


So for the last four months or so, I have risen at the butt crack of dawn on Tuesdays and Thursdays to take spin class. Piyo (a pilates/yoga combo) is on Fridays but at a more generous time of 6am. Because I’m so dedicated and go to the gym for such a grueling class at such an early hour, I think others should be much more considerate of my well-being.

Dear Spin Class:

-fellow riders:  this class starts at 5:30 in the MORNING which means it will never be full, or even half full, so please don’t come in and sit on the bike right next to me. You will put me in a panic that you are stealing my air and I NEED ALL THE F***ING AIR I CAN GET IN THIS STUPID CLASS. So, don’t sit next to me or directly in front of me, thanks.

-for the cute couple that sits next to each other: yeah, you guys are cute and thin and in LOVE, but do you really need to share the f***ing water bottle too? Bring your own, thanks.

-teacher: please, please, PLEASE don’t talk too much. First, I am not a talker, never been a talker, come from a family of non-talkers, and we don’t like talkers. Second, it’s 5:30 in the GD morning, I don’t want to listen to you. Third, if your explanation of what is coming next takes longer that 2.5 seconds, I have either already toned you out or told you to “shut up” under my breath, and still haven’t a clue what you are saying. Just let me enjoy the music and tell me what to do with a VERY brief explanation. I am on a stationary bike for crying out loud, I can’t screw up that bad. Keep it simple AND BRIEF, thanks.

-new class member: if your knees are hitting your armpits, chest or chin, that means your seat is too low. RAISE THE F***ING SEAT, GENIUS. Even if you are new to the class, common sense isn’t. Thanks.

-spin class: if my heart rate hits 193 bpm, and I am soaking wet at the end of class, and my legs burn like they are on fire, don’t you think I’d lose some weight by now? Or have an ass that could stop traffic? Or legs that could be in a Nair commercial? Yeah, well none of it has happened. Fix that, thanks.

xoxo,
Nat

Endorphins, my a$$

My main squeeze, Ignacio, and I have different work schedules. I work 9-5, and he works 6-2. I go to the gym in the morning, and he goes to the gym in the afternoon, and we meet in evening, and it works out pretty well.

Our alarm goes off at 4:30 in the A M. He gets up and showers, and I snooze until 5. Then, I get up and get ready to lug my fat a$$ to the gym. At 5 am, I really would prefer to sleep, and everyday is a fight with my willpower, but if I don’t work-out in the morning, I know I will not remove my bum from the couch after work to do it. So, I do my best to work out 4-6 mornings a week (and have NOTHING to show for it).

Have you ever heard that saying “runner’s high”? I have, and I believe it is some crap about runners getting this endorphin rush, and they feel an emotional (?) high. I’ve never experienced it, but then again, I can’t run around the block. But, every runner I see running on the lakefront has a look of anger/pain/dread on their face as I pass them. So, I’m not really sure about this “runner’s high” thing.

Anyway, Ignacio got home yesterday evening after taking spin class at the gym. For those of you who may not know, spin class is a class in a dark room with loud music where you peddle a stationary bike for an hour. It’s not easy, really, it’s pretty grueling. So after class, Ignacio walks in the door with his iPod on, and he is singing and dancing.

“Nat, I just had the best workout. My endorphins kicked in. I am on one of those ‘highs’”. And he continues to dance and sing and be way too happy, while I am trying to watch my Tivo’d American Idol.

Really? An endorphin high? I can barely drag my bright red, tomato face home after a spin class, and here he is on a ‘high’.

Whatever. Pass me the Hershey’s dark chocolate bar, I need to drown my sorrows because my workouts aren’t making me ‘high’ or my booty any smaller.