*or the day I thought I’d broken my legs.
So! Spin class! I must admit, I didn’t have massively high hopes about attending a spin class at the local gym and coming out the other side – so much so that I promised a friend he could have my books and cameras if I met an untimely demise. (he seemed unnervingly excited by that prospect actually, better keep an eye on that one in case he tries to bump me off to claim his loot ;) )
For the uninitiated, spin class is basically 60 minutes on a stationary bike, with a much fitter person than you telling you how fast to go, and when to stand up and pedal until you think you might be seeing black spots from oxygen deprivation. Oh, and at my local it’s £5 a pop. You can see why I was enthusiastic to go, right?
But I’ve been feeling fairly melancholy today (as referenced earlier) and I figured the endorphins from exercising (and more importantly, the endorphins from being able to stop exercising, heh) might help to kick me out of it, so I booked myself in and promptly came home from work and fell asleep. Yup, that’s right, I fell asleep. Idiot, right?
I woke up with about 12 minutes to go before the start of the class and hightailed it to the gym, completely forgetting my bottle of water in the process. CLEVER GIRL, SARAH. Kill some more of those braincells why don’t you.
I wasn’t massively sure what to expect to be honest – but the biggest shock wasn’t the class itself (altho it was brutal, anyone who tells you otherwise is some kind of human-robot hybrid that doesn’t sweat or feel emotion) but more the people in it. As an eight stone, size eight girl, I wouldn’t expect to be anything other than average in a class containing seven women the sameish age as me, but damn. These girls were so skinny, it made my stomach hurt to look at them for too long. They all seemed to have that universal haunted look of people who spend too much time worrying about how they look and not enough about who they are.* It made me kinda sad.
Being my first class I wasn’t massively sure what I was doing, and these girls didn’t exactly make it look easy. They all pushed themselves far further than I’d ever have the guts to and I couldn’t help thinking that maybe it just wasn’t worth it?
I’m not sure if I’ll be going back, I got the endorphin release I needed, singing along to Miike Snow on the ride home with the windows open, and honestly? I don’t know I can face those women again without wanting to bring them a cheeseburger and some cake :D
*I realise this is a massive generalisation and that I don’t know these girls, I’m just saying how they looked.