I Am a Biker Babe

I love spin classes. I used to be really intimidated by all the "hardcore bikers" who would exit these sweaty, dark rooms, dripping with sweat and high on some bizarre euphoric exercise endorphin. I have become one of them. I am one of the sweaty pig herd that loves to be yelled at in the dark, listening to loud music. Sort of like a bar at last call but without the booze and the skeeze in the Members Only jacket hitting on you.
I don't know if "spin" is the best way to title this little exercise regime. Okay, so the wheel on the bike is spinning but am I spinning? Not quite. If I am then I should probably sober up before I hit my Level 3 heartbeat range. Vomiting in that tiny room would probably be frowned upon but I have not yet had the joy of witnessing or partaking in that. You are cycling on a stationary bike which you customize to your height, leg length, arm length, etc. It is a bitch to figure this out. The lanky, 2% body fat, wheatgrass-guzzling instructor will do this for you but might place your seat at a more challenging distance from your handlebars. In other words you will be gimping out of there worse than Andy Dick after a foam party. Figure that shit out on your own.
Now there is a nifty little knob under your handlebars in which the instructor will tell you to "add load". She should really just come out and say "increase your pain because you are out of shape and this is going to hurt worse than being flogged by a tree trunk". I sometimes have been known to do the "add load fake-out". This is when my hand grazes the knob in a clockwise pattern but doesn't ACTUALLY add more load. Sorry, bitch, I have only had 2/3 of my usual coffee intake and it is Monday. Lick me.
The seat you have to place your ass on is made of granite. I bought a nifty little foamy rubber seat cozy, which does offer some padding. Now I've never been gang-banged but I'm pretty sure the lack of sensation my vaginal region receives after spin class is the same level of cooch paralysis I would experience after such activity. If you've had a hankering to get any genital piercings, feel free to make an appointment after this class. You won't feel shit. I see people walk in with their freak-ass, maga-padded biker shorts. Let me get this straight, you want to wear these camel-toe-inducing Lycra shorts, which in and of themselves are SO fucking sexy. But then let's add four inches of booty padding BUILT RIGHT INTO your ass so you feel comfy. I'll pass of that trendy look, thanks. I'll stick to having my labes numbed up for four hours.
You can wear regular sneakers or opt for special riding shoes with clips on the bottom. They range from about $80 to $150 PLUS the $20 metal clips which must be screwed onto your shoes by a professional. I tried mine on before checking out the price. Whoops. I was so enamored by my feet, which look like a cross between Transformers Megatron and soccer cleats, that I blurted out, "I'll take 'em!!" before I even blinked. These puppies make a world of difference and anchor your ass down so you can't leave. Ever. I think I dislocated my ankle the first time I tried to "clip out" of my pedals. But I look like a badass (spin class) biker so who gives a shit. I rock.
There are some fun little catch phrases these instructors throw out to pump us up as we sweat away 3 gallons. I have heard "Push the pace!", "All the way!" , and "Turn it over!". Sometimes our tight-assed little bikers roam the room, fondling our knobs (not the ones I REALLY like to be fondled either) to add the load we fake added 20 minutes ago. Son of a bitch. Problem easily solved when they turn their backs to face another spin victim. Readjust load to adequate minimal pain level. I'm STILL sweating so shut up already!! And speaking of sweat, holy shit, you have never seen anything like this. People come in with 3 bathsheets and a squeegee in preparation for their sweat orgy. They place one on the floor and two on the handlebars. Seriously, it's like being in a room full of those annoying, spinning, Elmo sprinklers. Except instead of refreshing water from your garden hose it is warm, sticky, bodily fluid (sweat, you pervs..) that drip from every damn pore. Did I ever know that my elbows could sweat? Of course the titties are the first to start but by the end of class it looks I've gone swimming. I am such a fricking dork that I actually get excited when I see droplets of my own persiration on the floor. The more I see drip down the faster my legs want to go. Maybe I'm crazy or maybe they smear LSD on those towels they so willingly hand out before class. Whatever the case, I'm high on my ride!!!!
The instructor plays music REALLY loudly from his/her IPod that blasts from the speakers into our Bike Cave. Most of the time it's decent music. I have been so pumped up before that I have rocked it out to "Sweet Home Alabama". Yes, it is sad and true. Now any of you who truly know me know I do not like anything that even resembles country music. I tell you, spin class is like the crack of the exercise world. You will do things you never thought yourself capable of when you are high on it. Our instructor yesterday, who is 6 feet tall, gets up at 5 a.m., has 4 kids, and teaches a bajillion classes at various gyms all over town, played the Madonna True Confessions Tour DVD on two giant projection screens during class. I was highly motivated by seeing Madonna's tight, 50-year-old ass in a white unitard....accompanied by some ridiculously gorgeous dancers who were gymnastically-inclined, on roller skates, and shirtless.. Maybe it was some subliminal Kabbalah messages..I think I burned 2500 calories. If my base accidentally broke on my bike I would have shot out of that room and biked all the way to Detroit in about 25 minutes. Let's just say I was pumped.
So if you want to try out spin I say go for it. Feel free to sit in the back of the room and buy that seat pad. Figure out how to adjust your bike on your own. Become familiar with the "load adding fake-out". Bring your 64 oz. water guzzler. And for God's sake, grab some towels so you can wipe up your Special Sauce so I don't slip and ruin my $200 spin shoes. Ride on, bitches!!!