A while back I mentioned that I had started attending spin class to help me get back in shape. I’m not able to go all that frequently now that I must be on the track five days a week, but every once in a while I try to sneak a class in. Like today. Today I went, and my favorite whooper and hollerer was there, three bikes down. He was in full effect today, and I have come to expect nothing less. Of course he has the knee length professional biker shorts, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they had a special Lance Armstrong signature on the tag. His shirt was bright orange-tucked in with the sleeves rolled up, a la 1991. His head is shaved, he wears two diamond stud earrings, and he wouldn’t dream of cycling with just regular old tennis shoes. He’s a professional spinner with those special shoes to prove it.
I don’t know, maybe it’s a slight case of envy that keeps me rolling my eyes at his every whistle and upbeat clap. Personally, I have only learned to manage to get through the class by keeping silent and conserving every last breath, but he has so much extra energy he’s the only one who responds every time the instructor asks anything.
You guys warmed up and ready to go?
YEAH! Woop woop!
How you feeling out there?
Awesome! clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.
Are we working hard?
Oh yeah! Go. Go. Go. Go.
It never stops. And then today I noticed something else that was just the icing on the cake. On the rare occasions we do get about 30 seconds to catch our breath and recover, he sits there and does mini choreographed dance routines in his seat. I get it. You love Rihanna, Britney is your idol, and you die for Lady Gaga…but this is recovery. Sit there and huff and puff like the rest of us. This is spin class, not rehearsals for a music video. But like I said…I’m probably just envious.