On that note, let me explain why I’ve done nothing today. The original plan was to wake up, go to the gym, come home, go to lunch, go to the bookstore, go to coffee, go to Brearley, watch the panel, then go to drinks, come home and go to bed. Yes, it was this organized. I was up at 6 AM, at which point some work I was doing ended up taking longer than planned. My coffee was cancelled, which meant the bookstore wasn’t happening and which pretty much invited me to cancel lunch because I no longer had to be in mid-town and I actually had to get the morning work done. Now, I haven’t gone to the gym, lunch, bookstore or coffee and am still waiting for the morning things to come through. At this point, I have no desire to even make up for it. Why? Well, I’ll tell you.
LA awakened a love for spinning. I know. It takes you nowhere. It may cause some people some physical discomfort. I get the feeling certain friends believe it will effect their child-baring abilities. In general, it looks scary from the outside and it has a cult following so why would one jump in unless they suffer from some form of derangement. Well, I love it. And it seems like a pretty awesome cult. And the people in the class are hysterical and amazing and inspirational. And we have special shoes too….
My favorite class was always the Red Line Ride. You put on a heart rate monitor and see your heart rate waver between 70% and 100% on a big screen. Of course, the goal is not supposed to be to keep your heart rate in the red (somewhere between 90% and 100%, which in my case is between 185 and 195 bpm) but who can help themselves?! I mean, if you’re raised to aim for As, otherwise known as 100%, then why wouldn’t you always go for everything labeled 100%, even if 100% is labeled red, which is also the color of a stop sign. So many mixed messages. Spinning all of a sudden seems more and more like a guy. Hmm. Well, that’s a comparison for another time.
Thus far, I have taken 4 spinning classes in the city, all at Crunch. Unlike the gay spinning instructors in LA who are either actors, actual trainers, or have their own tv shows, the spinning instructors in New York, thus far, have been Broadway hopefuls. They perform to their soundtracks as though class is an audition or their rehearsal for rehearsal. Yesterday, my guy got off the bike, did a hop skip off the stage, belted out Dave Matthews Band and sashayed up the aisle with his arms stretched out and his head bobbing to the beat. I completely agree with you. Dave Matthews? Really? He should consider Carmen if he actually wants to get cast in anything. OK fine, maybe not Carmen. But, you get the point.
Saturday morning I took a class with a woman named Emma who seemed like she was actually a spinner. Like, she actually spun outside. Like, actually knows how to ride a bike. In the great outdoors. Really intense. And, she was from Eastern Europe. I mean, the rough terrain is just as frightening to me as a team of aggressive pre-pubescent girls charging you on the field pretending to play soccer but actually just getting all their teenage anger out on you and the ground as though you were one and the same. But, hey, I’m not still recovering from high school or anything.
So, I walk in and Emma is deep in conversation about heart rate monitors with some woman who clearly thinks she’s the shit because she too is such an intense spinner. Emma is about 5’5”, dark brown, frizzy, brittle hair, pulled back in a low pony tail. She is wearing all spandex with bright colors on the sides. The other woman is small, a bit stalky, with short, straight dark hair and wearing a navy blue bandana. She too is wearing all spandex.
Emma: Yes, we are very excited for the new class. I am going to talk to everyone about it today.
Bandana Woman: That sounds great. I actually brought my new heart rate monitor today.
Emma: Wow, what a beauty. She’s great. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on her.
Really Emma? Is a heart rate monitor the equivalent of a car to you? That special? That gorgeous? At this point, she has turned on her music. Yep. It’s all techno. I have just walked into an Eastern European nightclub with hard core techno pounding underneath every bike and Emma is dancing/bopping (off beat, might I add). I’ll be lucky if I can stay on the bike. But, at least the music really helping me envision my serene natural surroundings in the mountains with trees, leaves, crickets and anything else you find out there….
Emma: OK, today we are doing my favorite class that I learned at the Spinning retreat. Oh, I’m so excited for all of you. I can barely contain it. Of course, I’m injured so I can’t do the class.
Emma. Again. Really? You dress like that when you’re not spinning? You pretty much have a helmet hanging from your neck for this class and now you’re telling me you’re not even getting on the bike? You went to a spinning retreat? You retreated to sit on a bike to nowhere? Does retreat imply outdoors to anyone else?
Emma: The final announcement is that I want to tell you about my new class which I’m launching next week called Psychology Spin.
I’m speechless. Please. Go on.
Emma: Psychology spin. So, everyone puts on a heart rate monitor, we project the heart rates on a big screen so that we can monitor how everyone is doing throughout the ride. You can really watch your body and work on changing it throughout the whole 45 minutes.
With baited breath, I waited. And waited. And then she turned up the music and told us to start climbing. Emma!! Hello! Over here. Yep, me with the flailing hands and gaping mouth in utter shock of what you have just said. Hiii! You mentioned psychology. Where in your description of the class does psychology come into play AT ALL? All you’ve done is describe red line ride.
Are you telling me that in order to get New Yorkers to come to your class you have to fool them into thinking it’s therapeutic?
And that, friends, is why I can’t be bothered to go spinning. It’s turned into this massive lie. It better not be like this in Spain.
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