Rumplestiltskin Ain't Got Jack

Today, I took my first spin class since I started half training. Oh, and lest you be confused, I haven't started training for any 2012 halves yet; I'm referring to the one I ran in October.

So yeah, since June.

Spin was always one of those mysterious feats of athleticism that I planned to view strictly through the paned glass in the group studio door. As if my crippling fear of looking like a jackass during group exercise wasn't enough, the horror stories alone were enough to keep me away  -- people who had taken an introductory class and been unable to sit for a week, coworkers who burned off half a box of Dunkin's finest in a single session, friends from the weight loss forum I used to haunt who relayed stories of how little estuaries of sweat pooled into "Lake Username" beneath their bikes.

If you hadn't guessed by now, I'm kind of lazy. I prefer to maintain the use of the tree trunks attached to my hips. I believe that anything that burns 650 calories in an hour should be illegal. And the prospect of a "Lake Caitlin" forming beneath me? Thanks, but no thanks.

And then my good friend, the same good friend who would later convince me that 13.1 miles was a good idea, talked me into attending a lunchtime class with her. And by that, I mean she threatened to go over my head and blurt out to my boss that we were going spinning. Nothing says "workout motivator" like a little corporate passive aggression.

Yes, my ass hurt; no, I couldn't walk afterward. I burned 550 calories in that first class and had a little great lake to call my very own. And I loved it. I went twice a week for almost a year after that first class, when my schedule allowed and the stars aligned over my lunch break. And then that same friend who introduced me to this burgeoning love of my life sadistically ripped it away and made me start running.

How rude.

Since it has been three months since I ran anything over a 10k and my hips' expansion is currently giving the national inflation rate a run for its money, I declared today the day that I took back spin. After scarfing leftover lemon basil chicken pasta, I marched my (not so) little bum across the street, planted it in the saddle and spun like Rumplestiltskin*.

During that 55 minutes of glorious torture, I had a chance to refresh my memory regarding the top five lessons I have learned about spinning. In the event that anyone reading wants to bring this special kind of hell upon themselves, I thought that I would share what I wished someone had told me before I started.

Five Facts Someone Should Have Told Me About Spinning

1. If you have a lunchtime class that is scheduled to last 55 minutes, negotiate with your boss to take a 75 minute break. 5 extra minutes to change and claim a bike; 15 to rinse off and get dressed. The extra 20 minutes of work is worth it.

2.Some well-timed Michael Jackson can make all the difference.

3.Phrases such as "I love you," "will you marry me?" and "it's a girl!" are overrated. The best words in the English language are "Back in the saddle."

4. You might not think you need to rinse off after, but trust me. No one wants to be the stinky kid!

5. Sorry, Al Gore. The internet is snazzy and all, but dry shampoo is the greatest invention of our time. Perfume samples are a close second.

Yes, that about sums it up. Of course, the usual lessons that other people always go on and on about probably apply too; I'm sure that padded shorts, clip in shoes and a nice expensive gel seat cover probably all make the process a little bit easier. I wouldn't know, because I prefer to take my exercise with a side order of pain. 

Now excuse me while I go unclench my hamstrings.


*I am aware that Rumplestiltskin partook in a different kind of spinning. I was once in an ice show based on classic children's fairy tales. Plus, I've seen every episode of Once Upon a Time, which totally qualifies me as an expert on the matter.