I was feeling soooo good this weekend, really charged and Wonder Woman strong. I finally gave my new Shimano kicks a test at spin class on Saturday. They're great! Let me stray a bit however and talk about spin class, in which, gentle reader, our clueless protagonist is thrust into the virtual road less traveled..
Saturday spin class is PACKED. I mean, where did all these people come from at 7:40 am? I'm glad I get there when I do, grab a bike and strap on the sexy clunkers and start to warm up. I get concerned when at 8:05 no instructor has shown up, but I am not peeling my butt off of this too small seat to look for anyone - this class is packed and I know someone would try to take my bike and then I would have to cause a scene and get embarrassed and make everyone else mad uncomfortable from me acting out...
....THEN this 9 month pregnant woman comes walking (waddling?lurching?) in, and is this my spin instructor? Apparently she has been out for a month - I just started about a month ago...and she is about to DROP. My ovaries hurt looking at her. But she was great! she proceeded to sing - I mean really belt out - almost every song that played, but she worked us hard and I forgave her for not getting on a bike and being a little late.
I don't forgive her for singing over Jack and Diane, however. Leave Mellencamp alone.
Sunday, the very next day, I decide to repeat the torture. Instructor #1 must have been in labor as now we have a feline, Grace Jones look alike who is almost completely intelligible, her French accent is so thick. I was spinning to Edith Piaf and tinny Europop, the final push/climb song was a French version of "My Way".... good grief. I wish I had a view of that class from the outside as everyone was so uncoordinated trying to respond to what they THOUGHT she was saying. Priceless! One guy in front of me was completely on his own program, he was the smartest in the group that day I tell you.
So after stretching I put on my Asics and head to the treadmill to try ny second brick of the season and I feel GREAT! I can already tell I can get at least 3-4 miles in, everything is in place: my water, I don't have to pee, I feel good, I have CNN in front of me, and I have Public Enemy on my headset...about 1/2 mile into it I reach for my player and pull the emergency stop button. OK, regroup. Grrrr....
see, it takes alot of things to align for me to get into the dreadmill - yes I said dread - and an interruption isnt one of them. I once screamed at a guy who interrupted me on the dreadmill when I was at about 4 1/2 miles, he had actually left his cellphone in the cup holder (I am FOCUSED, I didn't even see it). Not one of my better moments but hey I'm a work in progress, ok?
SO: back into my groove after biking a million miles to weepy French songs I am pumping my legs to some Nas and Jadakiss, when my player acts up AGAIN- I reach for it AGAIN, and For the Love of Ray J, the battery is dead. I mean dead and gone. Deader than it has ever been, which makes me think one of the kids has been playing/with it...
I am so proud of my lazy self, because usually that would be it. No music, no dreadmill. It's not like I am outside running and have distractions. I MUST have my music, not the Jonas Brothers they repeat incessantly at the gym, my own adrenaline pumping Korn and Metallica and Ice Cube...
but I didn't stop. I went on, dear reader, I perservered! I did 3 whole miles and felt great afterwards. And can still walk and talk today to type it all out! I am hoping that by the time I get the sex machine bike out on the road that I can do real bricks a little easier after doing these practice sessions...I need some restitution after these bizzaro planet spin classes....
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