Spinderella

I'm going to go ahead and admit, when I first heard of "spinning" class I honestly thought it was a class where you spun. As in, spinning in circles like you were five years old all over again, except this time for exercise instead of general weirdness and to experience the feeling of being dazed. I think the first place I had heard of it was in Arrested Development, when Lucille 2 (as played by Liza Minelli) said she had to go to her spinning class. I should have immediately realized my mistake then.

Lucille and Lucille 2 - can spin better than I can

When I started going to the gym regularly on the west side of Anchorage, I'd always see this stationary biking class where, from what I could tell, a very angry woman would lead everyone in a theorized arduous bike journey in an incredibly dark room while listening to obscenely loud mainstream rock and 80's hits, all the while screaming at them as if she was some sort of Secret Police throwback from World War II. In short, it was horrifying and I would take a wide berth from that little room in my ventures at the gym.

I found out that this was spinning shortly thereafter, far different than the child like and very literal version that was in my mind. Still, I never thought I'd cross that bridge. Too intense for me.

Sure enough, yesterday while working out on an elliptical machine with Joanne, I saw a group of people going into the class and I somewhat facetiously said "maybe we should go try spinning out."

"Okay!"

I was overcome with what felt like fear. "I seriously don't know if I can handle this class."

"Don't be a pussy David. You already drive a Jetta."

That worked. We go in there, and everyone is ridiculously fit and intense. However, once the class started and I got used to the state of being perpetually as tired as I've ever been and sweating as much one human being ever could (I told Joanne at one point "I think I'm more liquid than solid"), I actually started to have fun. I think I was doing really well, mostly because during one six minute stretch where you had to be out of your seat, the fraulein running the class looked over to me, seemingly impressed, and gave me a thumbs up.

I killed it. That class was great, and totally something I would do on a regular basis I thought to myself.

Then I stepped out into the bright room and started to feel dazed. For the rest of the evening, I felt about as disconnected as one person could possibly feel. I wouldn't say it was a bad feeling, as I kind of just felt like I was existing outside of my own body, if that makes any sense whatsoever. Thankfully, after a delicious dinner at Bear Tooth with Joanne (who had one bite of her food - who's the pussy now Joanne?), I went back, threw on pajamas, a hoodie, and my Six Feet Under slippers and pieced myself back together through the power of comic books.

Amazingly enough, even though it made me feel like I was all kinds of discombobulated, I have plans to do this on a regular basis now. It's a killer work out unlike anything I've ever done, and I have health goals that I will reach. Even if it kills me.