If you’ve ever seen a spin class on TV you’ve seen a smiling group of people not sweating but just glimmering with sparkles. They are all brightly dressed in a well lit room. Some even have black lights, giving them all a party feel as the music pumps through the stereo giving the room its own pulse. The instructor is nothing but pure spirit as they chant cute little sayings as the rest of the room sings back with nothing less than pure excitement.
This isn’t as far from the truth as I have found out today. Bailey, my step-daughter (yes let’s get past this really quickly, her name is Bailey, I am Kailey, it may get confusing but we think its quite fun) she wanted to go to spin at 6:00 in the morning. I swear this girl is crazy. 6? That means we have to be up before 5:30! Does she not know what goes on behind my bedroom door when I wake up? That the first sound that comes from my mouth is ‘no’ as if saying this magic word could cause time itself to crawl back into its own bed giving me more time to relax in my silk sheets?
As my alarm woke me up with a gentle ringing, who am I kidding? The ungodly noises that screeched from my phone tore into my sweet dreams with a dark haunting! It’s as if the uproar had come to seek vengeance on me for killing its father. Jolting up my vision blurred I scavenged for my glasses on the night stand. The wine painting that hung so crookedly over “that chair” that had all of my laundry piled onto it came in to sharp focus as my glasses slid on to my face. Reality hit me with a violent rush and all of the details seemed to jump out at me. I simply refuse to match my socks, a pink one slid into my tennis shoe as a black one came to match. I was ready! Let’s do this.
To my surprise Bailey was already up, this is especially surprising since most days she is up around noon and still looks as if she could conquer a few more hours wrapped in her comforter. Hair full of frizz she piled it up on her head and tried to crack a smile. She’s as ready as she’ll ever be.
Walking into the spin room an energy was buzzing through the air. It could be that were we 3 minutes away from starting the class and taking one of the last few bikes but I want to pretend that it was the energy of the spin cycle deities. Bum bum bum echoed through the floor as we strapped ourselves in for the ride. Our outstanding instructor had the energy you would expect, the cheerful motivating words and the bright clothing as promised. Everyone around celebrated as we started our journey.
QUICKLY that changed. The commercial promised fun, excitement and cheers until the end of the class. What they don’t show you in that 60 second clip is that the gates of hell themselves rise in that tiny little room at about 14 minutes!
At first you’re having oh so much fun. You feel alive, you’re with the beat to the peppy music you wish you had on your own phone. Then it hits you, pounces like a shady panther in the night. THE CLIMB. In that tiny moment trapped inside your TV screen they don’t show your legs burning, the sweat pouring down your face. You really have no clue how hard it is to breathe as the room gets warmer and warmer. I look to my right and see a woman who it is barely phased by the heat, sweat and burning muscles. My left hand lady Bailey is even powering through the climb. The harder it gets the worse it feels.
Then the speed drills hit. Some cyclers legs are moving at the speed of light; I was scared for their safety. Those wheels could come off at any moment and fly through the mirrors laid along the room but they just keep going faster and faster. I vaguely remember what I would call speed drills back in high school (oh gosh do I sound old typing those words) it was when we would run back and forth across the volleyball court within 30 seconds. Okay, I can do this for 30 seconds. Do you know how long 30 seconds are in spin world? FOREVER!
70–80% resistance, okay; whomever thought that this was a good place to start and then add 6 quarter turns of the bike for resistance is just crazy. I’m not sure if you know this but just one quarter turn takes me from 70 to 80 percent so let’s do the math shall we. 6 turns later I am somehow at 130%! My heart pounds against my chest trying to escape waiting for someone to come offer me sweet relief just like the villain in Indiana Jones “KALIMA” but I can’t give up now. Everyone is watching and suffering with me.
Cooldown, I’ve never been so grateful to hear “lower resistance”… for my legs to go from a frantic motion to something I can control. The pain from the seat jamming into my butt, (not as sexy as it sounds) the burning muscles in my legs and the pounding in my right foot all seemed to be too much.
But damn was it all worth it! The camaraderie of it all, the satisfaction that you feel when you complete what feels like the hardest thing you’ve ever done. This is what we fitness freaks live for! I can’t wait until Wednesday to give it another go!