9:34am. The gym.
Ok, 26 minutes until meeting with my trainer. Is there a place to lay down in the locker room? Oh shit, he saw me. I guess I’m supposed to warm up or something and now he knows I’m here so let’s get this over with. Ugh, I forgot my headphones. Who is playing Metallica? I can’t work in these conditions. Hmm…the spinning class is listening to better music and it’s pretty dark in that room. I bet I can sneak in for their cool down and call it a warm up.
OH MY WORD IT’S LOUD. Why is it so loud? I can’t see anything and my ears are bleeding and OW! Sorry, didn’t see your entire stationary bike because it’s pitch black. Oh, you’re sweating on my shoes. Yea, me too, I’m here to work hard. Maybe I’ll just take this bike in the back corner and no one will notice that I haven’t been here for the first half hour.
Who rode this thing? Chewbacca? It’s sticky with dried sweat and I can’t reach the seat.
OK, I finally have this thing adjusted so I can reach the seat, pedals, and handlebars. All aboard the pain train! Here we go! WHAT THE F*CK this seat feels like a spike with a thin coating of pleather. No wonder these people are biking standing up. This is worse than childbirth. I can’t sneak out now after spending forever getting the bike just right. Maybe I can stand and pedal like that lady…NO that is way too difficult. OK, think about something other than the seat lodged in my nether bits. Loud, thumpy music is very motivating. And what’s this? A laser show! It’s like my own personal rave. Nope, still thinking about the seat.
The instructor is shouting commands but I have no idea what she’s saying. Everyone is suddenly bouncing on their seats in a choreographed group-hump. She’s screaming one-syllable instructions but I don’t know what they are…and now she is blowing what sounds like Captain Von Trapp’s whistle. Is she looking at me? Can she see me back here through the dark, the lasers, and the steamy cloud of sweat? She is. She is blowing her whistle at ME. Uh, OK, bounce bounce bounce NO absolutely not I’ll need an epidural to do that again. Sitting on the seat isn’t much better, I’m pretty sure it is disappearing into places only my OBGYN has seen. I loathe Khloe Kardashian for making me think spinning was awesome. Her goodies must be battered and bruised.
OK wait, people are turning this dial-y thing and biking while standing, so that must make it easier…OK. I can do this. The instructor has stopped directing her abuse directly at me and is shouting what I can only assume are obscenities at the entire group. Yea, I’m just one of the group now. My chest kind of hurts, but I’m sure that’s normal when your usual cardio is folding laundry.
Are there more lasers than before? Pretty, pretty lasers. My legs are on fire and it’s getting hard to hold on to the handles with the sweat dripping from my fingernails. When do we get to sit down? Are fingernails supposed to sweat? Is my nose bleeding?
Maybe I should sit down for just a minute and OH GOD that seat is still murderously uncomfortable. Why do people do this in a building full of other options for torture? Clearly these idiots have no feeling in their nasty bits, but I bet their thighs could crack a coconut.
Praise Tracy Anderson! Everyone is sitting now and slowing down a tad. I can’t believe it’s over. I made it to the cool down. The lady is yelling again and…more bouncing?
Oh F*CK this.
*Fakes important phone call that everyone knows I couldn’t hear over the pounding techno.*
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