Watch that workout

Right now, I'm sitting on my couch, enjoying a delightfully fattening cinnamon roll. It is roughly the size of my fist...at least, it was before I started. Every bite calls images of steps on the treadmill, climbing the endless escalator stair climber, and facing the spin instructor's awful hillclimbs. And today? I earned my cinnamon roll, and every caloric delight that comes with it.

After taking an unauthorized 5 days off, I made a rather reluctant return to the gym. In order to make sure I didn't punk out on my workout, I decided to jump on a stationary bike and take a spin class. For the uninitiated, "spinning" is the ancient art of riding on a hard banana seat while pedaling furiously and going nowhere. As you pedal on, you slowly start to lose feeling in your nether regions...a concept that would be slightly disturbing if it didn't hurt to maintain feeling in that area more. Nothing says dedication like pelvic bruising! Anyway, in the case of this class, your ride is with the background of a mix of Madonna, Gaga, and techno-remixes that would put any gay disco DJ to shame.

Anyway, after I finish my cinnamon roll, I'm going to file a complaint with the D.A.'s office. I was a victim of attempted cardiovascular manslaughter. Frankly, the spin instructor made a valiant attempt to kill attendees by workout. After enduring 60 minutes of screaming quads and fiery calves, we all found ourselves crawling out of the small room, with nothing but our pinky toes and elbows to drag our slowly decreasing body weight back to the locker room.

The true redeeming quality of the class is that it's the only place in the gym where the gender roles are reversed. In this gym, as with most, at least one entire wall of the group exercise room is glass and facing the free weight section of the gym. During any number of classes where women are sure to be shaking their booties, doing downward dog, or various stretching exercises, you'll find men who are "between sets" ogling the ladies. The women, to their credit, pretend not to notice -- all the while proving to themselves that the hardwork is worth it thanks to the received attention. In the spin room, however, the roles are absolutely reversed. Usually, the class is filled mostly with women. And, just as with the other group exercise rooms, 1 and a half walls are full on windows. And, just as before, the windows look out onto the free weight area. Unlike with the room which holds Zumba, yoga, and the like, the spin room holds only spin classes. Apparently, meatheads do not find women hunched over stationary bikes sexy, therefore, they tend not to gather at the window. Instead of watching, the muscle men get back to the business of lifting. What does that mean for me and other women taking classes? That means we get to take our minds off of the incredible cardio exertion by watching the boys doing sexy things like pull-ups, hovering push-ups with hanging chains, and various bi and tri curls. I'm not ashamed to say that this evening found me and my bike neighbor unabashedly gawking at a man who must have done 3 sets of all manners of abs, biceps, triceps, and pecs. He certainly helped me get through my workout :).

To spite all the hardwork I put in on that bike (against my will), I finished off the last of my cheat food from this weekend. While TOTALLY worth it, I can only hope that there will be some meatheads working out this week and over the next few; because I will need as much incentive (distraction?) as I can get to work off this softball sized bit of delicious. Hello? Male fitness models? I'll be happy to watch you and to check your form. ;)