Thursday, July 19, 2012

Sit and Spin




I have always played a tug-of-war with my weight, and try as I may, there always seems to be that 10 pounds that yo-yo’s up and down like Nicholas Cage’s career. I suppose I could always just eat less but I swear to God it’s like I’m on the Truman Show.  Every time I attempt to diet and actually drop a pound or two, some higher form of intelligence takes note and BAM! Taco Bell comes out with a new menu item (te amo para siempre, Cantina Bowl), or Ben & Jerry crawl out of their commune in Vermont and fire up a new flavor sensation that leads to my ultimate demise.  Between that and the summer BBQ menu at Burger King I’m surrounded by more temptation than a priest at a Vatican summer camp.  So, as dieting is out, exercise is my only logical recourse against a lifetime of washing my back fat with a rag on a stick.

Ordinarily, I am not a gym person.  Part of it may be because I worked at one for four years and know waaaaaay too much about what goes on behind the scenes, but most of my loathing stems from the fact that gym people are just far too comfortable with the whole public nudity thing.

*Seriously?  Women get in the locker room and it’s like ‘Girls Gone Wild’.  I’d like to shower and change without watching you sling your leg on the counter and start blow-drying your hurt locker, thank you very much.

Also, gym classes annoy the ever-loving shit out of me because I do NOT like being told what to do.  “You will come here at exactly 5:30pm, you will listen to MY music, and you will move and contort your body as I command you to do.”  Fuck that noise. If I want someone to scream at me and make me listen to shitty music I’ll call my ex husband.  But while I may hate gyms, that seething hatred is greatly tempered by how much I love my friends.  So, on my sojourn to the Central California coast last week, I allowed my friend Curtis to drag my sorry ass to Spin class.

For those of you unfamiliar with Spinning, you basically pedal your legs frantically like a gerbil with ADHD while some steroid enhanced sociopath yells at you to “climb the hill!” like a sherpa on crystal meth.  Good times.

When we first entered the Spinning studio, I was mildly distressed to see that there were large windows surrounding three walls. Why are there windows all around us?  Is it necessary that my lycra-covered ass be bobbing and weaving in a giant terrarium for all to see?  Why not just hire the girl’s soccer team from my high school to stand there and tell me I look fat in my cheerleading skirt while we’re at it because reliving that fond memory sounds only slightly less humiliating.  I climbed up onto the bike and began pedaling briskly.  Huh. . .maybe this won’t be so bad. . .relatively painless and now the music’s starting.  Ooh!  It’s Britney, bitch!  OK, I could actually get into this whole Spinning thing and. .  .wait.  Turn?  Did he say ‘turn’?  How do I turn on a stationary. . .Oh!  He meant turn up the resistance.  Got it.  OK, turning up and. . .all righty, suddenly not so much with the ‘painless’.  Within seconds my leg muscles were howling like a beagle with his nuts caught in a vise.  I gasped for air and looked around the room to find that I was indeed the only one doubled-over and wheezing like an asthmatic orangutan.  Not my finest moment.

The instructor continued to belt out commands like a coked-up brownshirt while everyone around me had their bikes cranked higher than Charlie Sheen on a three-day weekend.  I silently cursed Curtis and his damned commitment to personal health while I mimed adjusting my bike’s resistance in an effort to save face.   Fine.  So, I can’t pedal any harder but I can channel this bitter loathing and pedal faster.  I’ll show you healthy bastards; I’ll pedal so fast my legs will be a blur.  A veritable BLUR, I tell you!  Of course, this would have been a far better plan if I didn’t have the motor skills of a one-legged man with Parkinson’s disease.*

*And if I wasn’t wearing two right shoes.  Minor packing snafu.

I pedaled furiously.  So furiously that one of my feet shot out of the little pedal-clampy thing and I flew headlong across the handlebars.  I managed to catch myself just in time and shot a look around the room to see if anyone had noticed.  Everyone appeared to be hyper-focused on the instructor so I thought I’d successfully evaded public humiliation.  That’s when I remembered the windows.  Looking out into the main gym I saw two girls looking in at me, stifling their laughter behind their perfectly delicate, manicured hands.  I hate you both.  I hate this gym.  I hate Spinning.  I hate those hot firefighters. . .wait, what?

Ho.  Ly.  Shit.  Right there before me, artfully displayed through the windows like a living museum of testosterone were five of the finest specimens of manhood it has ever been my delight to ogle.  For the better part of an hour I gazed on lovingly while they crunched, flexed, and did things to that weight bench seen only in a Ron Jeremy film.  It was beautiful.  Almost like watching “Magic Mike” with the sound turned off.*

*Because, seriously?  There was waaaaaay to much dialogue in that damned movie.  Less talky, more strippy, Channing.

I was so enamored of my current eye candy that it barely even registered when Curtis climbed off of his bike and handed me a towel.

“Class is over, Jen.  What did you think?”

I looked down at my shaking legs and sweat soaked shirt and pondered just how brutally I would ache the following day.  I glanced back at the snickering she-devils on the Stairmasters and watched the 85 year old woman who had just spanked my ass like a red-headed stepchild descend from her bike with nary a gasp nor moan.  I remembered in that moment absolutely every goddamned thing I have ever hated about gyms in my 40 years on the planet. . .then I looked back at the firefighters.

“I love Spin.  I love you.  And I love this gym.”  I passionately gushed.  “Can we come back tomorrow? Twice?”

Curtis grinned happily.  “Oh, no.  I thought tomorrow we’d try Zumba!”

Public humiliation: 2, Jen: 0.  Check and mate, bitches.

25 comments:

Leauxra said...

Do you learn nothing? I know I wrote about both zumba AND spin class. I need a helment at pads to go back to sping because I can't keep my feet on the goddamned pedals, and zumba tried to kill me.

I'm serious. I just about threw out my back with my spastic jerkings, and I may or may not have punched someone (on accident).

Becca said...

I take full responsibility for SPIN as I am the one who got Curtis addicted... at least you had eye candy...

Jenny Starley said...

"So, as dieting is out, exercise is my only logical recourse against a lifetime of washing my back fat with a rag on a stick." Pure awesome! I don't do well in exercise class because I absolutely hate anyone telling me what to do.

Jenny Starley said...

"So, as dieting is out, exercise is my only logical recourse against a lifetime of washing my back fat with a rag on a stick." That is hilarious shit right there!

I don't do exercise classes so well because when any instructor tells me what to do I get mad and want to punch them in the face.

I'm doing a diet right now, but I'm also a yo-yo dieter, I get it.

Jen said...

LEAUXRA - I'm a slow learner, leauxra. A very, very slow learner.

BECCA - It's a good thing I love you, my dear.

JENNY - Glad to know I'm not the only one who doesn't work and play well with others. :)

thoughtsappear said...

I have no self control when it comes to food, so I have to frequent the gym...frequently.

I hate changing in there because of all the people who don't dress as quickly as possible.

Curtis said...

The firefighters have been asking where the hot MILF went... Tomorrow is Spin and Body Pump. Hello, Daniel! :)

Jen said...

THOUGHTSY - Although I have the mouth of a sailor I am a big ol' prude. No nudie for me, thank you.

CURTIS - Tell the one with the sandy blonde hair and Jeremy Renner arms that I want to be his Baby Mama.

mistyslaws said...

Love that bluntcard. Have it and have been waiting to use it. You know, becaue I modeled it of course.

I Zumba'd 3 times this week and have been dieting like a mofo! I was trying to lose 5 pounds before I leave for vacation. Ask me how much weight I've lost. Go ahead. I'll give you a hint . . . rhymes with Big Fat Hero. :(

Kari said...

I am tired just at the thought of zumba. I tripped (literally) over my friends the two times I tried. Never again. When someone finds a class in anger management/aerobics, that'll be mind. but you're awesome. I, evidently, am not. And I will continue to exercise in small, singular doses. I wish I liked people enough to go to classes. Please tell me how to fake that.

Tricia said...

And this is why I don't go to the gym. You could market your services. Because laughter's like the best workout right? Or is that medicine...either way.

Jen said...

MISTY- No one is allowed to diet for BlogHer!!! Don't make me bust out the deep fried Oreos!

KARI- Oh Sweetie, I am the WRONG person to teach ANYONE how to get along with people.

TRICIA- Trust me, if I could figure out how to make a living writing I'd be aaaaaaall over that.

Lizbeth said...

I could sit on a bike and watch fire fighters. Eye candy....

But seriously, you know what I've been doing for the last few weeks? Watching the Tour de France. Now that's the way to get into biking...

Jen said...

LIZBETH - Ooh! Hot European men in bike shorts? Now THAT'S an exercise I can endorse!

Kelly Fox said...

*Because, seriously? There was waaaaaay to much dialogue in that damned movie. Less talky, more strippy, Channing.


This was Hilarious!!
I know right? That one scene with him in the little vest, they could have drug that out for at least a few minutes longer Daaaamnn!

Jillian said...

If your spin instructor was a thin, blond, metrosexual male with a disturbing propensity for smiling cheerily at all times, even 5 am, then I can sympathize with you. He used to be my boss.

Jen said...

KELLY - That scene could have been the entire movie for me, I shit you not.

JILLIAN - He was neither perky nor blond. I believe he may have been a cyborg.

Valerie said...

And why is it that the chicks naked in the locker room are never the attractive ones? I'm just sayin... I like nice boobs as much as the next person. But that never happens. It's always some rather robust lady who would love to have a conversation with me whilst drying their crotch.

And that's when I cancelled my gym membership.

Hugs!

Valerie

Jennifer Clark said...

Yeah, we have some pretty men here on the Central Coast. RE: the windows - you must have been at Kennedy. The yoga studio is all glass, too. Like I want anyone to see my pitiful downward-facing dog....

Good for you, oh pursuer of physical fitness! Way to find the fun!

Jen said...

JENNIFER C- We were at Fitness Works in Morro Bay. Can I simply say that if I ever move here I will immediately set my house on fire because those firefighters were HAWT!!!

chemgirljaime said...

good for you doing the fitness thing... I can't even be bothered to get off the couch.

Rachael said...

I don't play well with others, and I don't follow instruction all that great either. So I run and swim and kayak

NellieVaughn said...

Please tell me you will try Zumba, and if you do, write about it. I don't know much about it at all, but every other female I know posts about their Zumba class on Facebook.

Jen said...

JAIME - I've been couch-surfing ever since I got home. Apparently the whole "futness" thing didn't stick.

RACHAEL - That? Right there? Is why I love you. :)

NELLIE - Oh, I Zumba-ed...it did not end well.

Bexstar said...

Two words: fuck that. Not even the allure of a scantily dressed sexy fireman could tempt me to go there Jen. You my friend, are awesome for even trying it x