“I’m doing this because I want to, not because you told me to.” –Some girl on The Babysitters Club: The Movie. I think.
This quote is me in a nutshell. You can’t make me do anything. I have to choose it myself. I guess that’s why I waited til February to visit a gym (take that New Years Resolution expectations!).
Anyways, I tried to choose a gym with a lot of group classes, because running on a treadmill just isn’t for me. And that’s how I ended up at Life1 at my first ever spin class.
I’d heard the spin community was kind of akin to the Crossfit one (aka super intense and a lil cult-y), but when I showed up, everyone looked normal. Except they all had these tiny towels.
How odd, I thought, surely we won’t be sweating that much. Oh…poor, uninitiated Denae.
We were beckoned in by a Clint Eastwood looking man of an instructor–all gristle and muscle and no-nonsense. With just a minute to spare, I tried to size up the bike that would be my companion. I resized the stirrups and hopped on, surreptitiously glancing around to make sure I wasn’t committing any Spin faux pas. But so far so good.
As some of the classes at this gym have bilingual instructors I wondered if this would be the same. No luck in that department, but no problem, I figured. I could count to 8 in Hungarian, I knew basic commands, I could follow along! I was…mostly right. Some directions definitely went over my head, and I think I got reprimanded once (apparently you can’t drink unless the instructor *tells* you you can drink), but I made it through without bodily injury, so no harm no foul.
Hoisted into my not overly spacious bike seat, a silence fell over the class. It was time to spin. The lights went down, a huge psychedelic projection came up, and the techno music swelled. I felt as if the curtain had gone up on some futuristic presentation.
A booming voice from the heavens entwined with the techno music: “Your new life starts now.”
I barked out a laugh. No one seemed amused. I tried to smother it in a fake cough. Turns out, in Covid times, that won’t win you any friends either. Go figure.
But the energy had changed. People were dialed in. And then…we were off to the races!
From what I could understand, our instructor told us to warm up for 5 minutes. I cycled pleasantly, stealing side glances now and then to make sure I wasn’t out of line.
Oh, is this all spin is It’s not as gut wrenching as some people make it out to be. I can handle this!
And then…we were really off to the races
Suddenly Instructor was barking out orders. Up! Down! Up! Hold for 8! Hold for 4! Down! And on and on.
Something that may or may not have sounded like a wheeze made its way out of my throat.
What’s more, the resistance level was all over the place. I couldn’t figure it out for the life of me! Had I accidentally started some pre-programmed mountain route? Where could I adjust the level?
Wouldn’t have hurt to have researched the equipment before class. Now I know!
And then I saw the knob between my legs. My rapidly fluctuating legs. Perhaps a Spinner more experienced than I could move their legs with exact precision.
Unfortunately, my legs were liquidating into jelly and, well, a little akimbo. And my thighs are…how shall we say…voluptuous…and prone to rub the knob, sending me on a lovely tour of both mountain and sea level elevation. Note to self: research exercise equipment before
Anyways, another round of barked orders from Clint and I was starting to sweat, both literally and figuratively.
It was at about Minute 22 that it dawned on me with dread. Sweet Lord above, this class was an hour. An HOUR. My feet were in shackles-er–stirrups. I was stuck here. Doomed to either tip over or push through. I pedaled on.
The middle is kind of a blur.
Minute 23: What? Only a minute has passed?
Minute 30: Someone farted. Someone definitely farted.
Minute 35: Sweat. In my eye. SWEAT in my eye! It burns. What I would give for one of those tiny towels now.
Things were looking dark–and not just because I was squinting out of one eye.
But then, around minute 45, something clicked. With the booming techno and, trying to grasp my slippery handlebars and to pump one jelly leg in front of the other, I fell into a sort of trance. This tunnel vision focused on the psychedelic show in front of me, and the tribal beats around me. No thoughts, just rhythm and breath (ane lactic acid). I could see why people might enjoy this.
But then blessedly, the music slowed and the lights came on. I’d made it through my first spinning session! Until next time.
If you want to look into more of Life1’s group classes on offer, look here. Looking for an English language fitness class in Budapest? Start here!
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