ó 8:21 a.m.
Iím such a snob. When did that happen?
I donít know how many of you have discovered the sweaty, exhaustive joy that is a spinning class, but for those that donít know, spinning in an instructor-lead cycling class, which utilizes a single-wheel bike, with 3-position handle bars, and an adjustable tension knob that increases or decreases the resistance, mimicking hills and so forth.
There really is a huge difference between spinning cycles and the electronic ďLife CycleĒ kind, which has a digital display, etc. On a spin bike, you can actually stand up and pedal along up a big hill, just as you could on a real bike. Spinning cycles are pretty close to real cycles, but without the honking drivers, dusty eyes, wind, and sunburn.
Iím totally hooked on it.
I should tell you now that Iím in no way a cyclist. I have a shitty mountain bike that some friends gave me a few years ago, but I almost never ride it. Many people that spin are hardcore cyclists that do 80+ miles loops through the farm country on weekends. Not this kid, Iím too goddamned lazy.
About 4 months ago I started doing it, spinning that is, though I was shamed into going to the first class by my boss. I was NOT into the class thing, being quite sure that Iíd be able to provide sufficient challenge for myself, without a group of people around me and some drill instructor telling me what to do. I was wrong.
The first few sessions of spin class kicked my ass so hard I donít think I could sit for a week. It was incredible just how much you can push yourself, which I learned. I further learned that there is no way in hell that I could get my own lazy ass to do this alone. So, I stuck it out.
There are two very good instructors at my gym in Fort Collins. Both make me sweat like being tied down in a room full of hungry rats. Thursdayís class, however, found my favorite instructor, Raja, gone and there was a substitute. I know this is only temporary, and thatís keeping me sane.
This woman, whose name was Dion, just didnít compare on any level. Several people in the class told her how difficult Rajaís class is, and she said sheíd try to make it just as hard. Well, it was as hard as day by the pool in Mexico. I still did sweat, but I had to really push it. She was nice enough, of course, but would really have benefited from even half the personality nature gave a garden slug. I was so bored that I had to make believe I was in a different class.
I donít know specifically when I became such a spin snob, since Iíve only been doing this for a short time, but clearly I feel put out by this pathetic switching of an advanced class with a beginner. If this class had been my first, I would have thought it was a joke and would never have gone back. Well, think of me what you will, I know what I like.