I entered spin class a virgin, having never tried this before. I didn't even know the basics, like how to set up my bike. BTW- moving the bike from its position against the wall to the class floor is pretty much a workout in and of itself. I should have left after moving that piece of equipment & called it a day.
I asked the gal next to me how to adjust the seat, after explaining I was new to the class. She looked at me as if I was a complete & total moron, but at least she showed me how to move the seat. (She failed to mention that I was also supposed to adjust the handlebars. Jerk).
The instructor was a tiny Asian woman who was at least 7 months pregnant. She jumped right into class without asking if anyone is new to this and then we were spinning!
I hated it immediately & was trying to figure out my exit strategy. Most people think they can't walk out of a class full of people, like it would be too embarrassing or something. Trust me- I've walked out of a few classes in my day. But since it was only a 45 minute class & there was a semi-attractive, seemingly straight guy right by the door, I decided to stick it out.
The spin leader was shouting at the class to go to level 7, 8, now drop it to a 2 ... and I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. Where are these levels that she speaks of? All that my bike had was a red knob with a minus sign & a plus sign- but there were no numbers anywhere.
And whenever we stood on the bike to take a hill, I would get over-eager trying to keep up with the rest of the class, peddling my stumpy little legs as fast as they could possibly go- and then my foot would fall out of the pedal harness & I would fall off the bike. This happened over, and over, and over. So not cute.
Meanwhile, the pregnant Spin Nazi practically has smoke coming off of her feet, her frigging legs are moving so fast. I have never felt more uncoordinated & unathletic in my life (and considering that I have never felt like I am either of those things, this was a pretty epic fail.)
At the end of class, I approached Spin Nazi to ask about the levels and I explained that I was new to the class. She was basically like, Duh, I saw you fall off of your bike a few times. (what a sweetheart.)
She was like- The levels are what you think they are. What does an 8 mean to you? What is your level 2?
That is without a double one of the stupidest things that I have ever heard. How am I supposed to frigging know what my level 8 is when I've never done this before? Frankly, attending the class and not walking out is a 10 to me. Go Lori!
And a friendly piece of advice to fitness clubs everywhere: Having an amazingly athletic, highly pregnant group instructor makes us non-athletic, slightly chubby, single girls hate exercise even more.
I am going to go back to the treadmill, where 8 = 8 and I can hop off whenever I want without judgment.
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