Alright. Back in the saddle. Literally. It’s been how long? Shudder. Let’s not go there. I’m turning a new leaf. Ew, that sounds like a cheesy ladymag article. Let’s just call it what it is: I’m out of shape and suddenly have a desire to live longer. Exercise is the key to hotness and longevity.
Class getting started. Nice Girl Talk mashup, Instructor Lady. Feeling pumped. OK, time to increase the speed and what? There are definitely parts of my body jiggling that did not jiggle before when I used to do this. I have Bridget Jones “wobbly bits.” They used to not wobble! Wait, stop thinking like that. Think positive. Now is the time to clear my mind. Cleeeaaarrr. Caaaaaalm. Breathe …
I’ve really got to get my finances in order.
And what the hell am I going to do with the rest of my life?
Is my ex dating someone new?
Ugh, I’ve just paid twenty dollars to put my body through hell and to be alone with my thoughts.
Oh, wow, I am really sweating now and I forgot to bring a towel. Note to self: Towel absolutely essential for spin. Back of hand not effective. Shirt not the best option as it exposes completely un-tanned and un-toned midriff. Perhaps one day I will look like you, Lady Boldly Wearing Nothing But A Pink Sports Bra. Your life is awesome.
How many minutes have we been going? Twelve?! Are you effing kidding me? I have been here forever. For my entire life. Oh, shut up, Lady Who Is Definitely An Actress-Slash-Model spinning next to me with not a bead of sweat on your brow. And you’re smiling? What are you on? (And where can I get some?)
Huhh huhhh huhhhhh. I am dying. I can’t make it. Maybe I can slip out quietly? No. Stick with this. Oh my God, now we’re up. Now we’re down. My legs are spinning impossibly fast. This is getting too hard. Take down the resistance, just make sure Instructor Lady doesn’t see … there. Phew. So much easier.
Oh, no. Now Instructor Lady has gotten off her bike and is screaming in the faces of her students.
“Go! Go! Go! Push! If you don’t push, you won’t see results!”
Do. Not. Make. Eye. Contact. Oh, God, here she comes. She just dialed up the knob on my bike and it’s a million times harder. That’s my bike! Why does she think she can touch it? Ack—she did it again?! Roll with it, Leo. Rise to the challenge. But why is she still in my face? Leave, lady, leave! So I can dial down that knob when you turn your back. Oh, jeez. She’s still here. I am in Satan’s spin class. Satan, I tell you!
Whatever you do: Do. Not. Vomit.
OK. I’m not going to throw up and I’ve made it past the hardest part. Getting to the end. Cooling down. Feeling slightly like crap. But good crap. Fatigued-in-a-constructive-way crap. I should come back tomorrow. Well, let’s be realistic here. I’ll come back day after tomorrow. Or wait, I have that thing. Day after day after tomorrow. Good deal.