You all probably (maybe?) know my all or nothing tendency when it comes to fitness. It’s lay-Z boy or marathon. This past fall, I got up off the couch, and threw myself back into running. I didn’t think much about it, just started doing it. Added miles and more miles until I thought maybe I should dive into marathon training again. So much for moderation. In January, I signed up for Grandma’s Marathon. And three days later I broke my toe. Cue the death of any momentum I had going into this thing.
To make a long story short and save you from an overly detailed and annoying post, I’ll just say one thing led to another… (Do yourself a favor and watch from 1:30 on this clip. Go, do it now!) …and I ended up spinning.
Spinning. Yeah, I know. Never thought I’d see the day. First of all, I don’t even like biking all that much. Group fitness is usually more irritating that inspiring to me. And I pretty much hate stationery exercises, because really? Why run on a treadmill when you could actually be outside going somewhere. Okay. Done with that rant. The point it, spinning never seemed like a good fit for me. And then I went to a class with a friend. I got on this RealRyder bike thing, which moves and turns and feels a lot like a real bike. Oh, and I met Todd. Todd is the owner of and an instructor at a small local cycle studio. He is total fireball, and an animal on the bike. I’ve tried other classes with other people, but ain’t nobody like this guy. He yells and pushes so hard, that I literally wondered the other day if it would hurt should I pass out and fall off the bike. He makes a mean playlist, then guides us through a workout that would leave Lance Armstrong gasping for breath. It’s intense. And extreme. And right up my alley. I love it so much, in fact, that I don’t even miss running. I haven’t actually thought much about running since I started this spinning thing. Grandma’s Marathon? What’s that? I’ll be over here, sweating buckets to the tune of “Party Rock Anthem”.
Every single class is different, and I love not knowing what to expect. I like being pushed to the point where I seriously doubt I can hold 20MPH for another 15 seconds, then doing it anyways and feeling the subsequent high. To say that I’m addicted is an understatement. I spin with frequency and fervor. And then I eat burgers and don’t feel an ounce of guilt. Because, see, life is about moderation. And if I can’t find moderation in exercise, I’m darn well going to find it somewhere, somehow.
My Friday night plans, you ask? Oh, well, if you must know… I’ll be spinning with Todd and then going out for a big, tasty, and sinfully delicious dinner. Happy weekend! Live it up.
