The Longest Forty-Three Minutes of My Life

For a while, El Senor and I have been meaning to go to a spin class together at the gym. Today we finally had the chance to go. Now, I haven't been working out the past couple weeks. I've been spending my time focusing on other areas of my life, like homework and... you know... homework. We got to the 45-minute class two minutes late, but were able to find two bikes together, right beside the instructor. For everyone who's never been to a spin class, let me describe the environment. The room is small and triangular with black walls. The only lighting comes from a traffic light at the front of the class. Music is pumping as hard as it would in a club. In fact, I imagine the whole thing is a club atmosphere (I've never been to a club) only with stationary bikes. Now let me detail the next 43 minutes.

43: Got on bike, adjusted bike with El Senor's help. Started pedaling.

42: Was instructed to exert myself at about a level 7 exertion. Exerted myself at what I thought was a level 7 exertion.

41: Was instructed to sprint. Started sprinting.

40-38: Was instructed to sit back and pedal at a level 8. Pedaled at a level 8. Started to feel funny.

37: Started to feel burning in my lungs and chest. Felt more funny. Leaned far over bike handlebars.

36: Started to feel seriously ill. Stopped pedaling so fast, seriously reduced the resistance on my bike.

35-30: Thought about the public embarrassment to physical discomfort ratio. I was feeling sick enough that I didn't care that everyone in the room could see I wasn't following the workout anymore. But I wasn't sick enough to walk out of the room. Put my head down on my arms on the handlebars.

29: Said yes when the instructor asked me if I was okay.

28: Wondered if when I passed out, my head would hit El Senor's bike or the girl next to me's bike before it hit the ground.

27-26: Wondered if I'd have an epileptic seizure once I hit the ground.

25: Tasted strange taste in my mouth. Wondered if it was a taste of death.

24-23: Listened to El Senor say, "Don't over-exert yourself." Laughed because I didn't know whether he was being sincere or sarcastic. Listened to El Senor say, "No, I'm serious." Reflected on the fact that for the last howevermany minutes, I'd been pedaling extremely slowly at zero resistance.

22: Wondered if after my skull fracture and seizure, I would survive long enough to make it to the hospital.

21: Wondered if Viper would come and visit me in the hospital in the moments before my death.

20: Thought about how my entire set of lungs and esophagus were still on fire.

19: Thought that maybe I was starting to feel slightly better, despite the burning organs mentioned above.

18: Thought about the public embarrassment to physical discomfort ratio. I was feeling better, and was more aware of the fact that anyone in the class could see that I wasn't working out at all. Started pedaling faster.

17-13: Smelled burned matches. The instructor said that whatever the smell was, it smelled like food. But it didn't smell like food. It smelled like burned matches. Wondered if the rest of the gym were on fire, would we notice in our room with the music turned up so loud. Wondered about emergency evacuation. Wondered if there were a fire blocking the door, would I run through the fire to escape, or would I stay in the tiny triangular room and die?

12: Stopped pedaling faster. Wasn't feeling as sick anymore, but still wasn't feeling up to any degree of exertion.

11-9: Thought about my homework.

8: Heard instructor announce that there were only eight more minutes. Rejoiced.

7: Realized that the fire in my lungs was out now. Still didn't really pedal faster. Wondered if I'd ever give spin a chance again.

6-2: Thought about the Oscars last night and how I disagreed with everyone's criticism of Jon Stewart's performance. I thought he was fantastic.

1: Realized I'd have something to blog about.


Squirrel Boy said...

Regarding the funny taste in your mouth, it was probably just a stroke or something. You should be fine.

Mary said...

Thank you, Cicada, for totally confirming my choice to never try a spin class. You've done the world a favor, and taken one on the chin for us all.

The question is...what do you legs feel like today?

Mary said...

ick: I hate that you can't edit your comments. "your" not "you"

Thank you.

Cicada said...

Mary, my legs feel fine. Remember, I only exerted them for about five minutes. After that, it was slow, easy pedaling for the rest of the time.

My butt on the other hand (other cheek?) is killing me. Those seats weren't designed to be sat on for 45 minutes.

redlaw said...

ha ha ha
Every time something happens, I find myself thinking, "Can I blog about this?"

Bicycle butt is the reason I avoid spin classes altogether - it's like a week-long wedgie.

Limon said...

I have been trying to spend some time on the stationary bikes every day. I think it's way better than running because my heart rate gets up without the feeling like I am going to die sensation of running.

I think you should try again and really not overexert yourself.

Cicada said...

There is a HUGE difference between stationary bike and spin class. You have no idea. I generally avoid the stationary bikes because they don’t give me a good enough workout. Spin class is different. It gives you a good workout. Unless you give up five minutes into it and spend the rest of the time wondering if you're going to live.

Miss Hass said...

I went to a spin class at a fancy women's gym in Boston and wished I could die for the entire 45 minutes. I wish they would have told me it wasn't a beginner's class BEFORE I walked in there.

marriedin said...

After 50 years and 5 children my mom still teaches spin class. She is affectionately known at her gym as the spin nazi.

marriedin said...

I think my point is that you are a wimp.

daltongirl said...

Just reading your post made me want to puke. That is why I decided I should probably stay home from the gym today.

Master Fob said...

Jon Stewart is a funny, funny man.

Cicada said...

marriedin: Thanks. But let's be honest. If I were to wrestle your mother, who would win? Me.