A new nemesis...in the form of a spin bike.

Today marks Day 1 of Operation Bikini. I was inclined to call it Mission: Impossible, but that's a bit self-defeating. And I can't think of anything else to call it at the moment because I am currently drained of all mental and physical energy.

My Monday started out like crap because I woke up with what felt like the onset of a migraine. Mondays are my most hated day (as they are for most people), and starting it off that way was sure to end in disaster. So in an effort to preserve the lives of the innocent and also to stop this thing dead in its tracks, I asked my boss if I could leave work early and take a sick day. I'm so happy she let me because I really needed it. I rarely get sick to the point where I have to go home. I think the last time was in August and that's because I lost the baby, and I think that was pretty understandable. There was another time within the past couple of months where I had the worst head cold/sinus thing of my life and I think I ended up using some sick time as well. I'm so thankful that it's there if I need it, and I can't understand why someone people would want to abuse that type of resource. In any case...I went home and went to bed. I slept a lot. Most of the afternoon actually. I woke up and felt a little better. Not great, but better. My laundry is out of control. So I went and did some laundry.

I decided against my better judgment that since I was feeling a little better, I should go ahead and attend the Spin class that I had planned on. Exercise makes you feel better sometimes, so I hear. Additionally, it's a bad habit of mine to use "not feeling well" as an excuse to not exercise, and all that has awarded me are ham-like arms and a stomach made of flab. It has to go. Plus, a friend/former co-worker of mine from my previous job said it would be so much fun to go together, and I didn't want to stand her up.

Well. For starters, my friend totally bailed on me. I'm not going to hold it against her though because I'm sure she had a good reason. I'm going to the gym for me anyway, not anyone else. If anything, this totally forced me to go, and I'm glad I went. I died though.

I attended a Spin class years ago. My first and last time. It was a nightmare. I went with my mom when we were members of a different health club. They turn off all of the lights and have black lights so you can't see anyone. Every so often though, the strobe light would flash and I'd get a glimpse of her face. She looked like she was drowning. Her hair was stuck to her face and she looked like she was in agony. Then I realized I was looking in a mirror. I did locate my mom though, and she looked like I felt. I wanted to die. After the class, I realized that you can adjust the tension on your bike (which apparently you are supposed to do based on your level), and mine was on a medium-high setting. I was so angry, and the seat was really hard and left bruising in areas I can't discuss. That was the end of Spin.

It has literally been 8 years since that fateful day, and I have returned to try again. Different health club, but same type of thing. I walked in and found the bike with what appeared to be the most padded seat. The lights were off. The walls were painted black and silver and they had black lights here and there. I'm really glad the lights were off. I definitely don't want anyone to see me making the faces I was making. So I figured out how to adjust my seat height and the instructor showed me how to adjust the tension on my bike. Once I figured out how to get my feet in the stirrups, I was ready.

The techno music started. The instructor was up front on her own bike yelling a bunch of stuff. Alright. I couldn't understand her, but that's okay. It was fine for the first 10 minutes, and then the warm-up was over. I really wanted to push myself and get something out of it. There is nothing worse than killing yourself and not reaping any benefits. So I kept up with all of the things she was doing...for like 20 minutes. Then I realized that there was still another 30 minutes left, and my legs were on fire and there was nothing I could do. I'm glad the music was so loud. I think they do that so that they can't hear anyone moaning and swearing. I said the f-word a lot. I don't usually swear either. I also moaned in agony, constantly. There is no way anyone could hear me because Fatboy Slim was much too loud to hear anything other than "the funk soul brother" over and over and over again. I honestly don't think I've ever cried out so much in agony. I really don't know what else to say.

Seriously, the class murdered me and my butt feels like it is bruised. Again. Just like before. Even with a padded seat. I brought this to the instructor's attention and she told me that it's "normal for your bum to hurt if you aren't used to the bikes, but after a while it doesn't hurt anymore." Yeah, know why? Because it becomes numb. You probably develop scar tissue or something. I can't even talk about this. I'm pretty sure that the reason the seats hurt so bad is so that you are encouraged to stand on your bike the whole time...which is what I did. But sometimes I had to sit down, so now I have a bruised butt and thighs that feel like Jell-o. I almost fell on my face in the parking lot as I was walking out to my car because I couldn't feel my legs anymore. And my headache came back, too. Probably because I didn't drink any water today. That was really stupid of me.

After everything was done, the instructor came up to me and asked me how I liked it. She also told me that I did a good job. Maybe that's what they say to the people who look like they are about to fall over. I told her I enjoyed it and that I was really happy. At that point, I was just happy that it was over.

So it sounds like I pretty much hate Spin class. Which I do. And the only way for me to get past this is to keep going until it becomes enjoyable. I'm not going to let Spin class get the better of me. I'm going to battle Spin class at least twice a week. I think that this punishment is well deserved for how I've let myself go, and the only way to get my cute body back is to get rid of what's hiding it. The fat has to die. And dying is painful. Burning 500+ calories in less than an hour hurts really bad and it makes me never want to eat ice cream again.

Tomorrow is Tuesday. I'm meeting with my personal trainer at 4:30 so she can join forces with Spin class in killing me. Then I'm going to attend a class called Butts & Guts taught by the girl who taught the Spin class tonight. Sweet. If doing this consistently yields no results over time, I will absolutely give up. It has to work. There's just no way it can't. I also went to the grocery store yesterday and filled our kitchen with healthy food. I can't justify working this hard and then undoing it all in 10 minutes with a jar of Nutella.