I worked out with a crazy lady

I did a spinning class the other day. My third one...EVER.

The lady that taught it was a sub for the regular teacher. She was about as fit as anyone I've ever seen. I'm not one to judge age - but I would guess she was mid-40's -- you know -- WAY older than me. Bike shorts and spandex t-shirts don't leave much to the imagination, however, so I can say with all confidence that she had not one single ounce of fat on her body.
(Just a sidenote: ALL of the instructors at the gym look this way. Rather than intimidating, I find it all very motivating. I keep thinking, "well, she obviously does this class and look at her. Maybe if I do this class...you get the idea. Of course, I'll never be 5'2" and 105 pounds.)

She began by saying, "My name is _____ and it's so good to be back." (She never did explain where she'd been, but after taking her class, I have my theories.) She continued with, "I recently completed a 16 hour training for BOOT CAMP. I really hope you'll join me on June 2nd."

And with that, she cranked the stereo and we were off. UP. (FASTER) UP. (FASTER) UP. (FASTER) A VERY LARGE MOUNTAIN. Apparently, Metallica blasting was not inspiring enough -- because she cranked the music louder and told us to "add more road." It didn't take long for me to be grateful, despite the HUGE fan that circulates around the room, that I had put on two or three layers of deoderant. Seriously. Who knew I could sweat so much?

It also didn't take long before I had to start visualizing the contestants from this season's BIGGEST LOSER. I looked at the ground by my bike and thought, "I have a created a literal pool of sweat -- just like Filipe did...and I am not 400 pounds." I do not exaggerate.

Whenever this rock-solid-not-even-breathing-hard-woman opened her mouth, I was SURE she would say, "ok, take a little off." But no - it was exactly the opposite. "Give me a quarter turn." "Give it a half-turn." "FEEL THE ROAD!" (Blast the music louder.)

Are you kidding? I could feel "the road"...as well as an extreme burning sensation from my toes, to my calves, to my quads and my hamstrings. Let's just say that if those body parts could talk, they would not have been calling me nice names.

I started in with my mantra of "What is 2 minutes out of my entire life? I can do anything for 60 seconds. If Tara (personally, the most inspiring player from Biggest Loser) can do it...so can I." Then my mantra became, "Only 20 more seconds. What is 15 seconds? I can do anything for 10 seconds." Over and over and over. AGAIN.

It's a wonder I didn't fall off the bike.

Imagine my dismay when I looked down and saw that I had created an even bigger pool of sweat. I was quite certain the poor woman next to me was quietly wishing that she had chosen a bike on the opposite side of the room. Seriously. Who wants to ride next to a purple-faced-mother-of-5-who-is-huffing-and-puffing-so-hard-she-puts-the-Big-Bad-Wolf-to-shame?

"ADD MORE ROAD! This should be starting to get difficult." Yeah - STARTING to get difficult. THAT is what it was.

And then, thankfully, yet sadly, 45 minutes of torture was over.

And I loved it.

So I went back today.
And, I took Greg with me.

It was a different teacher, but that didn't matter. She (who also had not a single ounce of anything 'extra') WORKED me. Greg didn't think it was as tough as I thought it was. But then, we both agreed that maybe he didn't add enough road.

That's got to be it, right?

I'm certain (although not as certain as I am about the fact that these instructors are super-ultra-fit) that my tension levels were cranked almost to the max. Really. I doubt it would have been possible to feel much more road.

Yeah...I'll keep telling myself that.

All I can say is, "Crazy lady...I'm following you to BOOT CAMP!"