I’ve just recently re-joined Fitness First so I can get back to my favourite exercise, the spin class. I’ve been doing spin classes on and off for over 5 years. My last spin class was when I worked in the CBD last year and I had access to a gym which was at ground level of the building I worked in, so I had no excuse not to do a lunch time spin class.
Since leaving that job, I’ve tried to motivate myself to go for a regular morning jog before work but the motivation and a hectic project put a stop to that. What motivates me is a monetary outlay and access to several Fitness First gyms and night time spin classes that suit my schedule. So three weeks ago I attended my first spin class in over 9 months and wow how I enjoyed being back. The music, the darkened room, the blue lights making all the whites on our clothes illuminate adding to the ambiance of each session.
- Pennant Hills
- Castle Hill
- Bond Street (CBD)
- Market Street
- Pitt Street
- North Strathfield
- Macquarie Park
The location changes but the ambiance doesn’t and given my observation speciality is people, on the most part the people that attend spin classes can be organised into the following distinct categories:
Let’s start with the instructors, mostly women as the case has been in my experience. All full time instructors, all with amazing bodies and all whom we wish we could look like albeit with some boobs and arse – not too much arse. They motivate us just by looking they way they do, providing motivational chants during the class and driving us to go faster, to add more load so as to make the pedals heavier to turn and providing the music as an instrument to enhance the experience.
Then there are the “glamor pusses” – the ones with the crop tops, short shorts with logos such as “High Maintenance”. These girls are usually in their 20s, gorgeous, but seem to be more motivated to attract men’s attention than to actually work out. Many wear their hair out, which I can’t think of anything worse than doing a spin class with a strand of hair touching my face. It’s the only class I leave with sweat pouring out of every possible sweat gland and I’m not usually a sweater. I hope I painted a lovely picture for you!
But I’m awfully suspicious of these girls – do they really apply the resistance to the cycle? Or do they free wheel during the class and make it look like their working hard when the rest of us apply so much resistance we can hardly turn the pedals?
And then there are the middle aged men who turn up in bike pants, bike shirts and cleats. They look serious and don’t look like they’re having fun. They sit close to the front which usually means I have to look around their skinny arses to see the instructor. If I sat on one of them they’d snap. I like my men with a bit of meat – you know the ones who look like they enjoy life – not too much mind you.
And let’s not forget the young men in their late 20s or early 30s, the ones who turn up in regular jogging shorts and Ts. They’re not serious gym junkies but they work out just enough to build up definition but not enough to look like a retarded Michelin man. And all the better if they’re good looking. Along with the ambiance of the room and the music, these guys give you something extra to take your mind off a hard session and when they sit directly in front – thank you Mother Nature.
On weekdays when I’ve had a ‘sick day’ or on leave and attended the 9.30am classes, I have noticed these classes are full of women either slightly younger, same age or older than me. And it doesn’t matter if I only attend once every three months, the same women are there. Obviously they don’t work. They chatter between themselves before the class starts and all meet up at the coffee shop afterwards. I’m not sure whether I feel sorry for them because they’ve obviously married well, they don’t need to work, and therefore are totally reliant on a male. Or should I be jealous of them because they’ve married well and don’t need to work? I’ll talk this dilemma over with the girls at work, I’m sure they’ll have a comment to make on the subject.
And there’s me – I’m the one up the back. Enjoying the spin class because it makes me feel firm and healthy and burns enough calories so I can partake in a few wines and nibbles whenever I want. I’m the one observing you, having my opinion, assuming I know your life story, jealous of you or in awe, depending on my mood. I work my arse off physically not literally with my back to the wall saving anyone from having to sit behind my fat arse blocking the view of the instructor.
I’m the one who doesn’t dress to impress and I don’t give a shit. I just want to get lost in the music, spin, and leave as silently as I arrived hoping I’ve added one more moment to my precious life because I know there’s nothing on the other side lulling me into a false sense of delusion.
I’ll see you at the next spin class – if you dare!
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