Spinderella

I was rushing to get to spinning class, and was at first relieved when I saw that the instructor hadn't yet arrived and everyone was standing outside the classroom. But as the minute hand crept up to the hour and then past it, everyone waiting outside started to grumble, and I could tell that the crowd was getting restless. At a quarter after, a few fellow spinners went up to the gym's front desk to complain, but just then the instructor came through the front doors.

This was an instructor I had not had before, and at first it was difficult to distiguish gender, but I finally arrived at the conclusion that it was a woman who looked very much like a man. That doesn't bother me, but I knew that this wo-man would probably run our butts off, especially since she'd been late and would now try to cram 60 minutes worth of exercise into 45.

The other spinners gathered excitedly around the doors like shoppers waiting for JC Penney to open the day after Thanksgiving, and once the doors were unlocked, they streamed into the classroom and made a beeline for the desirable bikes. I'm not much of a pusher or a shover, so I went ahead and let those who were willing to engage in both grab whatever bikes they wanted. What this left me with was a bike that you need special shoes for.

You see, there are bikes with straps for those of us who wear regular running shoes, and there are bikes for those who wear actual bike shoes that have little clips to grip the peddle, and I was stuck with the wrong kind of bike (or the wrong kind of shoes, depending on how you look at it). I tried to trade with someone nearby, but it turned out that everyone was quite satisfied with the bike they had shoved and pushed for, so I had to make do. It really wasn't a big deal until about halfway through our 45 minutes of torture (hills, hills, and more hills!) when I was spinning my little heart out. I was peddling and peddling, so fast the peddles start to feel as if they are propelled forward of their own momentum, and then my left foot slipped off its inappropriate peddle and my whole left leg flew forward; thus, the whole of my body flung itself forward over the handle bars.

I nearly spun right into the spinner in front of me!

The girl next to me was kind enough to ask if I was alright, and I shook my head "yes" and got back on the bike. I was a little shaken, but I managed to ride the rest of the class. I thought I might be bruised on my left leg because I banged it against the frame of the bike, but it looks like my skin has been resistant (funny, since I have a mother of a bruise on my right leg and I can't recall how I did that; my brother says I'm becoming delicate).

Next time I guess I'll have to learn to shove a few people out of my way so I can make sure I get the right kind of bike. I think I can take some of those skinny bitches.