So the other day I tried spinning class. Class description: stationary bicycling. Pretty much, a skinny little instructor tells you when you should turn the little dial of torture to make the biking harder and harder. I've tried and failed before. I was determined to finish the whole class this time. This is roughly how it went:
8:30 - I start up, 3 petal strokes in, so far so good. I like the instructor.
8:35 - It's getting hard and that was supposed to be the warm up. Ouch.
8:39 - Oh sweet mama, it's only been 4 mintues? I think about giving up; decide not to just yet.
8:43 - I think that it might have been a dumb decision.
8:45 - Yep, dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb. But I've stuck to other dumb decisions so I'll stick to this one.
8:50 - My quads scream despite the fact that I'm going about 1/2 the speed of everyone else.
8:46 - I hate everyone else. (except Emily who, bless her heart, thought I could acctually do something this hard)
8:50 - I think mean things about the instructor. This gives me a surprising boost of evil energy.
8:56 - Evil energy wanes.
9:05 - My legs go blessedly numb.
9:08 - I realize I need heavens help to get through this class so I think 5 good things about the instructor (but I still don't like her.)
9:09 - I. am. going. to. die.
9:10 - Instructor announces cool-down time.
9:14 - I start to like people again, in general. I forgive the instructor for her sadistic tendencies.
9:15 - Done. Stretch. Endorphins have a chance to catch up with me.
Do I plan to do it again? Yes. That was brutal but I burned a TON of calories. So even though I might wimper a little, me and my jelly legs will be there next week when I hope it will be a little easier. (oh, please let it be easier!)