Spinning is my Friend
By Rebecca Mahoney
I started a new blog this year. I am calling it my 52 weeks of WooHoo. I thought it was a great way to focus (or some weeks just look for) the many blessings, opportunities, and joys in my life. My selection for my first post of the brand New Year was my Spinning Class I signed up for at the Y. I wrote:
If you listen closely, you will hear my first of 52 weeks of WOOHOO! Although, it would sound more like this, w—o—o—–h—o—o.….…..
It might have been panted in syllables, through clenched teeth, face contorted in pain, but it was there. A brand new year, a brand new Spin Class. First, you need to know I have been an exercise queen most of my life, but I have never taken a Spinning Class. It just always looked like too much sweat and a lot more effort than I thought this old body was capable of, or wanted to expend.
Well, this exercise queen removed herself from power and took a very long hiatus from the rigors of body maintenance in an attempt to work on her emotional intelligence and develop some spiritual muscles in the last few years. The result, I got my degree, a sort of Cross Fit certification for the soul. I passed the tests in learning the meaning of serenity, acceptance, forgiveness and what wisdom really is. While all that introspection, mindfulness, and focus on the spiritual side of life created character with some brawn, the vessel holding all these qualities has gone soft and turned into the proverbial piece of crap.
The manner in which I found myself taking this class was clearly a sign. My Big Trainer in the sky made all the arrangements. I just wanted to take a peek at the new spinning room and cycles. That’s all. I went from observer to participant in a matter of about 20 seconds. Every excuse I had for not joining in was quickly shot down by the spinning darlings, all jazzed up and ready for their workout.
Our instructor is an energetic little 20 something dynamo. I was impressed that she went through our bike’s design, resistance levels, how to read the monitor tracking our progress and made sure we understood safety issues. She warned us of some changes that could occur in our bodies while we are on the bikes — dizziness, nausea, vomiting… WHAT!? She then pointed out the trash can that was available, just in case. I asked her if she could move it closer. Then, she went through the moves; sprinting, or leaning forward, rear-ends off the seat and peddling like Lance Armstrong navigating the Tour de France. And, best of all, STANDING and peddling. I tried to recall if legs that wobbled like a newborn colt was one of the signs that was a precursor to vomiting and eyeballed the trash can.
One of the songs in our repertoire of tunes was a Pussy Cat Dolls number. I envisioned my body six months (well, maybe a year) down the road as a Dolls candidate, but it was hard to embed that picture in my head as the sweat poured off of my face, leaving my hair in drippy ringlets on my cheeks and forehead. There’s very little sexy about a bright red face, sweat stained tee shirt, fear filled eyes and grimaces from the shooting pain in my crouch and rear end. The seat is very, very tiny.…
So, no pain, no gain. I am just waiting for the endorphins to kick in. Oh, and I hear one of the people in the class lost 5 pounds in a week! That’s encouraging. Especially after discovering later in the day, I am unable to walk up or down steps without holding on to the handrail with one hand and the top of the leading thigh with the other one. The upside… I can easily get in my ten minutes of meditation while I’m navigating the stairs. It’ll take me that long at least to get to the top or the bottom.
Nonetheless,.…..WOOHOO—- 16.4 Miles in 40 minutes.… right out of the gate!
P.S. Seriously, this class is an incredible workout and the instructors are phenomenal. Contact the Galion YMCA for more information. Go on… you wanna do it, I know you do!