Spin Me Right Round, Baby, Right Round

The next time I smell BO on the bus or train, I will not assume that the person is homeless. Perhaps, like me, they were traveling home from a particularly strenuous spin class.

Just in case you've never heard of spin, here's my Cliff Notes' description.  It's a group class filled with people on stationary bikes. The teacher plays really loud music with a strong beat and has you climb hills (standing up with your butt out of the seat) and do sprints where you pedal really fast (like 30 miles per hour). I sweat...a lot.

Just in case that made no sense, here's a video from a gym that looks a little fancier than the Y where I take spin:



I've only been doing spin for a few weeks now and I absolutely love it...and not just when it's over. I actually enjoy it while it's happening and find myself smiling while I'm sweating like a pig and listening to my gluteus maximus and hamstring muscles scream.

On my own, I'm not very good at pushing myself to my maximum ability, but somehow it comes easily with spin. I want to keep going. I want to keep my butt out of my seat for the entire three-minute song. I try to go a couple times per week and I try to push myself with harder gears and higher RPMs each time. And every time I go, I work really hard which makes me feel incredible.

I feel like a superstar when the one-hour class is over, like I won the Tour de France...ok, maybe like I finished the Tour de France. Unfortunately, no one told the people at the YMCA reception desk that they should give me a ticker tape parade as I head out to catch the bus home and offend my fellow passengers with my sweaty odor. That's ok. I applaud myself.