Drop-in spin classes at the Commonwealth Community Centre pretty much made me want to cry.
I chose to go to spin because it’s supposed to be a beneficial, low-impact cross-training activity for runners. I thought perhaps I could get a nice sweaty workout that also let me brush up on the latest house music. My city membership has spin class options almost every day.
To top it off, Studio 3 features a double row of spin bikes facing floor-to-ceiling windows which open up onto the Commonwealth Stadium’s field, home of the Edmonton Eskimos. Best seats in the house!* Sooo, why not?
Well, five minutes in, droplets were rolling off my forehead and plopping on the mat below my bike. Seventeen minutes in, sweat was pooling in my glasses frames. Thirty-seven minutes in, I could no longer feel my ass.
The need to cry came because unlike other group classes I’d taken, I was strapped to a machine with no respite. There was no water sipping, shaking out cramps, catching of breath, etc. This spin class also didn’t have the camaraderie of Zumba or the strength classes I’d attended at Commonwealth, it was a very singular feeling. I just had to keep pedalling. Pedalling alone. Pedalling until it was over.
The Saturday morning instructor, thankfully, had beginner options for the newbies. She had two personalities: the seasoned spinners got a drill sergeant, while the new kids on the bikes got, like, Penny the dance instructor from Dirty Dancing.
Her words of encouragement were all, “You are STRONG! You are POWERFUL! You can DO THIS!” (She shouted a lot). She also made it clear she didn’t want to scare away any newcomers…
Spin is a good workout, and I’m just a wimp. I’m sure there’s no crying in spin. I’ll go back, but only once a week.
*Mind you – on game days these classes aren’t on.