New Exercise and Numb Behinds

I told my daughter the other day that I would try out a cycling class. Even though I occasionally grumble about commitments large or small, I keep them. Today was the day: I donned my exergear, grabbed my water and a towel and trucked on over to my local gympeople club. My first impression of the cycling room was of a disco room in Hell. Teal and blue lights festooned the ceiling, while the teacher’s bike was on a platform resembling the stage at a car show.

I didn’t know whether to be intimidated or simply bemused, so I took a bike in the far corner of the room, and waited for either instructions or an announcement that class had been cancelled. The instructor strode into the room, all healthy and well and glowing with the good spirit of one who is in wonderful shape. I was tired already and I hadn’t even mounted the bike. The teacher showed me how to adjust the seat and levers, and I was ready.

To the tune of today’s techno beat, we cycled, then cycled, and then cycled some more. I was so happy I could actually ride the cycle that when she said “Stand up,” I almost fell off. My center of gravity is questionable on a good day, much less when I have a machine to stand up on. I finally managed to get up as the song was coming to a close. I call that perfect timing.

At 10 minutes in, my muscles were already fatigued and I was drenched in sweat. I kept peddling, even though I wanted to be finished.

At 20 minutes in, when the instructor said, “Stand up and go to position three,” I tried to stand but my behind was numb and my legs were already wobbly.

At 40 minutes in, when the instructor said, “Stand up and work up that hill,” I found that even though my behind was still numb and my legs were on fire, it was easier for me to push through a hard resistance than a light one. Okay, uphill all the way for me. Then she said to sit back down. I couldn’t move properly. I forgot how to sit, I guess, or my muscles refused to change direction, or I was just cranky – in any case, my ability to control my muscles was not at its peak. Still I cycled.

At 50 minutes, I recited all the swear words I know, internally of course.

At 55 minutes, I heard the most beautiful words ever uttered: “This is the last song.” The sweet joy of that phrase carried me through. The cool down made me laugh; my muscles were so fatigued that I had to hold on to the bike for balance.

On my way out the door, the instructor asked if I was coming back. I answered, “Oh, yeah, and next week I’ll figure out how to stand.” Really? Where did that come from? She gently informed me that my numb butt was going to be mad at me tomorrow (I’d figured that one out on my own) and to keep my exercise light for the rest of the week.

I now have a new appreciation for my friend who rides bikes for fun, and for my daughter whose definition of great exercise is slightly different than mine. I also appreciate that variety is the spice of life, which certainly holds true for exercise. If I can get out of bed tomorrow morning without wincing, I’ll consider this a win/win.

Plus, there’s always next week to go back and try again.

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4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. YourSillyDaughter
    Feb 17, 2015 @ 02:27:30

    Oh my goodness you didn’t tell me that you were allowed to stand so much! That is my favorite part haha
    You battled that cycling class like a champ! You really don’t have to go back next week if this week was not so good ahhhh. But I continue to be proud of you for trying! C:

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  2. Kourtney Kilpatrick
    Feb 19, 2015 @ 16:59:37

    haha this made me smile! I felt like I was there in the cycling class with you (hating my life as well) 🙂

    Like

    Reply

  3. Lauren
    Feb 22, 2015 @ 13:32:22

    I’ve had similar experiences and I’m dreading the day when I go back to do Zumba or something. I’ll probably be on the floor before the end.

    Like

    Reply

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