Spin. This is a curious word, because when spoken out
loud, it seems to cause the same reactions in people as the word
“tequila.” People shudder, dry retch,
close their eyes, moan painfully and say things like, “No, God no, never again…” Spin
class, which is simply a bunch of stationary bikes in a room, is known the
world over for being a brutal and sadistic experience. Having never tried spin personally, I
headed down to Ashmore PCYC gym to work out what all the fuss was about.
Walking into the spin room, I was
confronted by dozens of bikes and a very tiny instructor. She greeted me with a huge, sweet smile and considerately
helped me adjust my bike to an optimum seating position. With gentle words, she explained that the
little lever would increase the resistance when pushed up and where to look to
see how fast I was pedaling.
As the rest of the class filtered
in, I observed the kinds of people who were spin enthusiasts. Our group contained a few well-honed bodies,
but there were also several larger people and a granny. With my bike cruising along at warm up speed
and people laughing and chatting around me, it felt very relaxed and
social. The lovely instructor switched
off the main lights and bathed the room in the glow of UV bulbs, sending all
white objects a brilliant purple. It was
fun and different and I felt raring to go.
“What are people complaining about?” I wondered…
I didn’t wonder for long. Warm up finished and my friendly instructor
suddenly morphed into a screaming commando.
“Come on people! Get those legs
moving! I can see you’re not working
hard enough from here – LET’S GO!!!”
Blindsided, I pumped my legs as fast as I could, hoping it would get
easier.
Nope. Over the next 40 minutes, I ran a full and
extreme range of emotions:
Fear: “Oh God! Please don’t let her look at me! Please let this end!”
Childishness: “NO! I
will NOT give you another 10 second sprint!
I DON’T WANT TOO!!!”
Anger: “ForGET you lady, I don’t have to put up with
this. Push YOUR resistance up…”
Nausea: “Yup.
I’m gonna vomit. I really
am. Lucky there’s a basket by the door…”
And grief: “I CAN’T, I CAN’T! (Tears roll silently down my face) I’m just hopeless! You’ve broken me!!!”
But when I looked at the display on
the bike of pain at the end of class, I realised I’d burnt a ridiculous amount
of calories. Leaving on shaky legs, I
waved at the instructor, back to her perky self again.
“Bye!” she called after me
cheerfully. “See you again soon!” I let out a manic giggle that made a few people
look up from their stretching and smile at me knowingly.
For two days I walked like a
cowboy, and I really did think I was done with bikes that went nowhere.
But I kept thinking about that amazing calorie count and coupled with my
resolve to try every new class 3 times before writing it off, I went back again
later that week and once more a few days later.
And you know what? My thighs actually changed shape! And my belly got tighter! And the sprints and hill climbs, well, they
didn’t get easy, but they did get easier.
The resistance levels that seemed impossible on the first day had become
an intense and satisfying challenge. I
even converted enough to approach a couple of new girls after their first class
as they lay glassy-eyed on the floor.
“Don’t worry,” I said confidently, “It gets better.”
Spin
classes are available at most gyms around the Gold Coast and range in price
from $10-$20 a class.