The expression “spoil sport” recently took on new meaning at a New York City athletic club a few weeks ago when an argument ensued between two men during a spinning class. Spinning is the latest popular craze that has hordes of cycling enthusiasts lined up at local gyms all across North America. Participants “ride” on stationary bikes that have been reconditioned into "spinning machines" complete with adjustable seating, handlebars that have fixed racing gears, and pedals with clips.
Forget about what you may have in your garage - your old bike is not welcome here. The technology used in a typical spinning class incorporates sophisticated cycling training with an instructor who uses music combined with drill-sergeant training principles. This is no place for the weak-hearted.
I am in my early fifties, battling menopause and all that comes with it. I've tried every known diet and fitness routine in the attempt to ward off any further fat deposits to my waistline. Hours spent trudging on treadmills, and trying to keep pace on elliptical machines has not resulted in reducing my midriff. On the advice of a family member who is notably quite fit (claims she's a size zero), I decided to see if it was possible to spin my way to a thinner and fitter me.
Spinning is not for everyone; one must be either fearless or foolish to want to ride a bike in a tiny room full of fanatics. During my inaugural class, I spent the better part of ten minutes trying to adjust the seat and handlebars to fit my 5'9” frame without bumping into my neighbor sitting half a foot away. Another five minutes was spent precariously hanging over the side of the bicycle holding onto the handlebar, while attempting to adjust the straps on the specially designed pedals. I can't remember how many times I climbed on and off the bike apologizing and trying to squeeze my frame between the six-inch spaces on either side of me.
As I began to get the feel of the pedals and settled back onto the seat, I managed a small smile - secure in the recollection that as a child I had once ridden a bike quite competently. My enthusiasm was short-lived however, as our instructor, a buff and gorgeous twenty-something-year old, flipped on his special headpiece and in a booming voice began to shout instructions to the class, similar to what you might hear in boot camp.
Spinning involves a warm up and then a series of exercises that require a tightening and loosing of the amount of resistance to the wheel of the bike. As you spin, you travel up and down imaginary hills and valleys and your heart rate and breathing increase to what seem like insurmountable levels as you furiously pedal to the beat of the music. Forty-five minutes later, as I gingerly climbed off the bike, red-faced and shiny with sweat, I felt somewhat euphoric. I think this was partly due to the adrenaline pumping through my veins and the wonderful sense of having survived the whole ordeal.
This now brings me back to my original story. Part of the motivation behind a successful “spin” is the ability to move to the music and a kind of team approach to the “bike tour.” Caught up in a New York moment, a spinning enthusiast began to sing along quite loudly to the music in the class. It seems his neighbor did not appreciate the distraction and promptly told him to cease and desist his crooning. Our singer chose not to comply and seconds later, he was picked up - still peddling, and hurled across the room. I can only imagine how this was accomplished, given the limited space, the weight of the bike and all those sweaty bodies in the way.
Our crooner is currently nursing his backside while he and his law firm (that's right- he's a lawyer), file their suit against his critic. I understand they are trying to settle out of class and out of court. Has this deterred me from going back? No way. I'm actually starting to see the beginnings of a mid section - a sign that I have a waistline in the works. My butt still hurts at the thought of climbing on the bike, but it helps that I now tie two towels to the seat and I don't even try to sing along.
