I went back. I got back in the saddle and did it. Yay for me! (See my first experience in a cycling class here.)
Of course, I probably wouldn’t have gone back unless my friend made me. She just returned to NYC and friend-guilted me into biking for 45 minutes while traveling 0 miles. (She is touring in the show 50 Shades: The Musical! Go see it, it’s hilarious.)
I set the bike up myself this time, which really helped the bike-seat-up-my-booty problem from last class. With absolute pain and constant misery out of my way, I was able to get into the class.
Same instructor (TJ.) Same great Motown music playlist (I’m telling you, that stuff pumps me up more than any techno-remixed pop.) The things I love about this instructor might put others off… and by “others” I mean rude idiots who don’t understand group exercise etiquette. If you’ve got a cellphone out, TJ tells you to get rid of it and goes into a monologue about how you came here to sweat, not take calls. If you’re chewing gum, she remarks how she has NO EARTHLY IDEA how you could chew gum and cycle. “It makes no sense!” Therefore, you (rude gum-chewer) make no sense and are thus labeled “ridiculous.” If you don’t reach down and turn up the resistance when she says, “Turn up the resistance!” she will look you in the eyes and repeat herself until you stop being a baby, reach down, and turn that dang knob.
This time I was able to enjoy the class. I felt more in control. I knew what to expect.
Yet, despite my autonomy over my bike-seat setup, my butt still hurts. Again. Days after the second class. I’ve never been this sore from sitting down in my life.
Will I go back? Sure. And by sure, I mean the next time my friend makes me, I’ll go.
Sweat Level: A-