Monday, February 05, 2007

Naked Sundays

So, I tried to kill myself this weekend.

I went to what I thought was a 45 minute spinning class at the gym. (Gotten kind of hooked on this new craze. If not just for the sake that I don't feel nearly as guilty eating an entire bag of gummi bears if I spin them off, but it's oddly empowering.)

So I'm all clipped in, seat adjusted--complete with the extra gel padded seat cover I bring myself for my oh so delicate hiney--and the instructor was like, "OK, are you all ready for NINETY minutues of endurance cycling?!" I'm looking around frantically to see if anyone else is as freaked out as I am.

Nope, apparently they all read the schedule correctly and knew what they were in for. Then I start noticing how these people look a little different from the people that come to my 45 minute cycle class. I now notice half the class has special shoes just for cycling and many of them, unfortunately mostly the men, are wearing those crazyass Lance Armstrong bike shorts in bizarre colors that do nothing to hide unsightly, uh, bulges. Eek! And their thighs are amazingly huge and muscular. (Hang with them, we'll get to the naked part soon.)

Just as I'm trying to get my feet out of the pedal cage dohickeys and make a break for it, the instructor turns out the lights and we're off! Oh yes, didn't you know that you spin in the dark? That's actually the cool part. Complete darkness except for a few purple neon lights that make everyone's teeth look dazzlingly white! And bright!

So the music is blaring, gawd it was "Eye of the Tiger" and then the theme from Rocky, and meanwhile this Drill Sargeant of a chick is screaming, "Go! Faster, faster!" into her microphone thingy.

Well, I made it. Cycled nonstop. Did the three sets of 50 lifts where your butt is on the seat for one count and in the air for one count; repeat 50 fucking times. I don't mind telling you, I'm a little pround. And, ah, tender in some areas, but I did it.

I figure 90 minutes of getting my ass kicked beats watching naked people jiggle their way through a workout. Did you hear about that Dutch gym in the Netherlands where every Sunday is "Naked Sunday Workouts!" The owner said he's had a huge response to Naked Sundays. Really? I can see the guys being all for it, but women, too? I'm sure the guys work out even less because they're too busy checking themselves out in the mirror; telling themselves that of course their package is bigger than the guy's next to them.

But really, would you want to get on the thigh abductor/adductor machine after some naked, sweaty dude just had his junk resting on the seat?


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