I love spinning.
That’s a lie.
I hate spinning.
I thought I loved spinning.
I wanted to love spinning, but its all a lie.
I love Kerry.
I miss Kerry.
Kerry was my spin instructor at my old job, I would duck out at lunch to catch her class. I would get sweaty and feel ‘spent’ afterwards. She had killer music and I regularly stole her playlist PLUS she let me create a playlist for a special class, that’s the relationship we had. Spinner and Spinnee. It was a good set-up, but it lead me to believe that I love spin. I don’t.
Friday morning I woke up early and thought this was a sign that I needed to go to the gym, I was 2 sessions short for the week (my aim is 4 per week). I rolled out of bed, popped my pills, slid into my jogging pants and rolled out the door with an apple in my hand.
|This is my spin bike.|
I got to the gym nice and early. I found the SPIN room, which was in total darkness, but full of people. I slipped on a bike in the back and attempted to ‘set it up’. I couldn't get my feet to line up, my legs were too bent or too straight. My bum hurt and the handle bars were always the wrong distance away, but the class was starting with or without me. The music was great… booming, loud and upbeat. The instructor was good… lots of energy and clearly very knowledgeable. But there was something lacking… our instructor although very chatty offered little instruction. I couldn't keep up with the changes, because I didn’t know they were happening. I couldn't keep up with the pace, because my bike wasn’t set up (don’t worry I am FULLY aware that I am out of shape and that had a lot to do with not keeping up).
I left the class feeling annoyed… not sweaty and spent.
My new plan… lure Kerry away from my old gym and find her a home right here in Burlington. Her parents are already here and it could be great.