Tuesday, February 15, 2011

The Legendary "Lance Armstrong"

Another great one from Guest Blogger Brett...I will say, a full hour of spin is tough to handle but after that first time-it's much easier. I actually love spin now. The Gym where we go actually offers a 30 min beginner spin now which would have been perfect for Guest Blogger Brett, back in the day, lol.

"...so anyway, I have once again ventured into another realm of a type of morning exercise to challenge my muscle development and increase my cardiovascular training. Has any foolish person, besides myself, ventured into a "spin class"?

It is, exactly as the name would lead you to believe, an hour long, cardio workout that takes place entirely on a stationary bike. Let me first describe the aforementioned bike; it isn't the type you would buy at Wal-Mart, it is solid and everything about it suggests that no expense was spared in its construction. A frame designed and constructed so strongly of some time of alloy metal that a heifer could sit on it and it wouldn't give, the pedals have leather insertions that look like a Roman sandal to keep the foot in place at all times, and the balance of this thing is amazing you couldn't flip it over if you tried and if you did try and it did flip, then you are simply a moron anyway. My being the curious type, and looking for a reason not to do the class, checked this bike out from top to bottom, and well, I found nothing that would give me any reason not to participate, therefore as class was about to begin, and I had already been spotted and couldn't leave, I sat on my little jewel of a bike, "'ol number 10" I will refer to it as for that is the number on the side of my sweet ride. I adjusted the handle bars to my liking and raised the seat to its proper level, because apparently a midget had been on it the previous day. I adjusted the feet straps, inserted my foot into each peddle, said a prayer, then class began.

In all my preparation I didn't check one thing about the bike, which is why I stated earlier "suggests no expense was spared", the seat. Now listen I am still a young guy in all reality, but when I had my first bike we had the banana seat, it was long, it was wide and it was about the size of the small church pews that are always located near the back door in every good church. However, in today's world, for whatever reason, the seats are just this side of a sewing thimble or my arse is wide as a door (and in all honesty a combination of both is most likely the reality of it). I sat on the dumb thing and it felt like a bee just stung me right in the crack. "Oh my God" I thought "this is miserable", but class had already begun and no way would I leave and confirm, for a room full of women and one another dude, their already preconceived notion that I was a wimp, so I stuck it out. The class itself was a good exercise routine, lots of standing and sitting as we pedaled, of course with every stand meant the dreaded sit followed closely behind. The sit was miserable; my legs would go numb, except from the area of about the navel underneath to the top of my butt crack on the backside, now that area screamed in agony with every sit. I found myself wishing someone would cut my nipple off to take my mind off of the pain of "the land down under". It never happened! I looked around the room, people working hard, people cutting up with those beside them, people rocking to the awesome music that was playing as we spun, etc.

However, 'ol number 10 and I weren't getting along so well, with every sit brought a new sting, and with every sting brought joy and adulation to 'ol number 10, I felt. At some point the instructor, and yes you guys know her refer to "the devil in blue spandex" aka "Bee" made a decision that spinning itself just wasn't enough. Therefore we would spin sitting for a count then stand for a count, sitting for a count stand for a count, and so on and so forth. For me it was more like: sitting through hell standing for Heaven, sitting through hell standing for Heaven, I think you get the picture. We did that for awhile and then we sat again; as we sat it was time to get a little arm exercise apparently. So we put our hands well in front of us on the handlebars, like the ones you see in the Tour de France or something, and started to do push ups as we sat, which means leaning way forward, then pushing back up straight, all in the sitting position. Well, this is where they lost me, because every lean forward and every push back was, well, how do you say it? Okay, forgive me here if what I am about to say is offensive and/or lacking in gentlemanly qualities, if it is then please bare with me in my folly; each "bike push up" was plain and simple a "nut crusher"!!!! I did a total of two "nut crushers", and well that was all I had to offer, I hopped off my bike, tip toed to the locker room, puked blood, laid in the floor with a stomach ache, called in sick, walked like Chester from Gunsmoke, and sung like the tenor Luciano Pavarotti the remainder of the day................."No soup for Jerry Seinfeld, No spin class for me"
Does anyone know if they need a new guy to do the voice for Mickey Mouse?"
~Guest Blogger Brett~

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