Because the holiday season is upon us and because there is a 99.9% chance that I’m going to wind up breaking down and buying these:
(and yes I’ll probably eat the entire box while sitting in my car in the Trader Joe’s parking lot as I wait for an 85-year-old woman who’s two more grocery trips away from death attempt to make a K-turn) … I’ve been upping my game. I’m on a six-day a week workout program and the only reason I’m not on a seven-day plan is because I don’t want anyone confusing me with The Circle of Trolls that frequent L.A. Fitness. For example: my gym nemesis, or this terribly malnourished woman who seems to know every girl in a pair of lululemon’s and every guy who’s got a dick. My best friend a.k.a The Enabler refers to her as “Yoga Chick” but just I refer to her as “gross.”
When working out this much it’s important to vary your exercises and there’s only so many tips from the Men’s Health twitter feed I can work into my routine before I start to get the urge to look in the mirror and cut myself.
Recently The Enabler (she frequently encourages me to eat pie or tells me to come over because she made cake or one time she made me go to Jack in Box when we were drunk, because basically she’s a horrible person) suggested we try a spin class. Of course she would. Her other best friend is Naturally Thin. The two of them could work out once a week and still eat full-fat cheese and get away with it. As if a spin class is going to work off the six pieces of pie I had the day after Thanksgiving (I can’t even get into how much I ate on the day itself. I would have blogged about it but my fingers were too fat to type, the swelling has only recently gone down). What I really needed was multiple sessions of Crossfit, but as we all know, that ain’t happening. The Enabler promised a workout full of Britney songs and since Ms. Spears is the patron saint of Fat Kids everywhere, I signed up.
I was convinced I wouldn’t like spin as I’m quite determined to not like anything that isn’t my idea. I questioned my ability to maintain the status quo when placed in a situation with loud music, mirrors and a no dancing to Britney policy. However, there were a few upsides I hadn’t considered: Myself and The Enabler were by far the fittest people there after the token anorexic left (she told the guy next to her it was because the instructor was a sub but as soon as she was out the door I rolled my eyes and told him the more likely scenario was that she was a racist) and if there’s one thing that motivates me, it’s being the hottest person in a room. Yes, the room was only 8×8 but as I learned from Brandon Walsh once upon a time in the 90210, a win is a win, even if you’re a college senate candidate and your running mate dies in a car accident forcing you to accept the position of CU Class President. The other upside was that I could see my gym crush reflected in the mirror directly in front of me and since spin bikes are immobile I was forced to stare straight ahead, thus removing any possibility of me being accused of being a creep by anyone other than The Enabler. My only real problem was the music. It sucked. Journey is great but it’s an obvious choice and when you remix it and put a beat behind it, I want to get out of my “saddle” and impale myself on the bike handles.
I was determined not to go back to spin class ever again but despite my best attempts my life often winds up looking like this:
I knew I needed to take a day off because I was getting dangerously close to being drafted into The Circle of Trolls and I knew that I wouldn’t last five minutes faking a friendship with Yoga Chick before I told her she needed to wash her hair. The Circle of Trolls don’t attend classes so I knew I’d be safe in spin. It was a different instructor so I assumed the music would have to be better.
You know what they say about assuming.
The guy teaching the class was obviously in the wrong place as there’s an international publicity tour going on for The Hobbit and I’d imagine the actors playing the dwarves are doing the rounds. He was wearing a headband and as I’ve told Naturally Thin time and time again, I don’t care if you made it yourself from an old T-Shirt or not, IT HAS TO GO BECAUSE I’M NOT HANGING OUT WITH ANYONE THAT LOOKS LIKE AN EXTRA FROM FLASHDANCE. He was also wearing a hemp necklace which I’m sure smelled just great after multiple sweaty spin sessions. What’s even worse is that he was an electronic dance music fan and if you’re going to make people listen to that shit the least you could do is offer them a hit of ecstasy. He looked as if his soul had been sucked out of him and I began to fear that spinning might do the same to me. Yes, I’m in a constant battle with the fat kid in me, but if he ever left me, would I become a EDM crazed, soulless, hemp and headband wearing hobbit? I decided this would be my last class.
And then, this:
There’s a fit kid in all of us but fortunately there’s an app for that. See you at spin.
The Fat Kid