Several years ago, a friend invited me to a spin-cycle class. I had been going to the gym at that point a couple of times a week with a different friend, but always steered away from group fitness experiences since I thought it would be more comfortable to make things up as I went for myself.
Nonetheless, I thought I would try and challenge myself by doing something outside of my comfort zone. Here’s what happened: IT SUUUUUUUCCCCKKKED.
Okay, firstly, the class was a small one. You might think that could help anxiety – however, the bicycles were positioned in a semi-circle, which meant we were making eye contact with one another. You couldn’t hide in the back if you wanted to ease your way into this. You were on full display.
Secondly, I had been telling myself beforehand that I was just going to be going for a cute little bike ride indoors. But that is NOT what a spin class entails – let me tell you. There were jumps, out-of-saddle pushes, aggressively pushing intensity levels up, and more. For 45 minutes, we pedaled non-stop and usually very fast to match the pump-up music playing in the background. Some people took breaks, but I was stubborn and didn’t want to get stuck into my old mindset when I struggled a lot with weight and body image issues,, so I kept on pushing.
Lastly, let’s talk about the aftermath. In the immediate wrap-up, my legs felt like jelly. In fact, when I got off the bike and tried to walk, I almost collapsed! Miraculously, I caught myself and managed to walk down a flight of stairs and even drive myself home… But in the days that followed, I had to side-step up and down stairs. Using the toilet hurt because squatting was torture, and I lived in Epsom salt baths. For those of you who are no stranger to this feeling, you might recognize this as DOMS, which stands for Delayed Onset Muscles Soreness. Basically, as the days went on, my pain got worse before better because there were microtears that had to heal and strengthen. I also had a small streak of blood in my urine right afterwards, which I later learned was the result of either something called hematuria or rhabdomyolysis – simply put, these are both conditions that affect the body in different ways and are the result of overexertion. Just 15 minutes of a spin-class can cause this for a first-timer because of the intensity. In my own case, this was thankfully very minor – as I said, it was just a streak one time. But other people have been hospitalized because it’s scarier for them.
At work, my friend was also complaining of similar body pains and another co-worker who had joined us even debated going to a clinic because she thought she pulled something. As I chatted with other friends about the experience, I learned that many others had attempted spin classes before, but left. One former colleague told me about a time she walked out mid-way through, risking whatever social judgment would come her way because she worried about how unhealthy this was. Likewise, a male friend told me he tried the class once and completed it, but decided he would never do it again. And that’s where I decided to land, myself
Here’s the thing… it was a crappy experience. But it was weirdly fun, too, and I learned a lot.
For starters, I learned that I’m capable of pushing myself to my limits – and beyond. Hearing that other people who seem pretty healthy to me had quit before really put this into perspective. Despite how hard I can be on myself sometimes, I do have some kind of a drive in me that wants me to keep going when I’m faced with a challenge, which is kind of neat. I saw this manifest again in Portugal when I found the trail with 600+ wooden stairs accidentally and decided I was doing the climb up and then back again down whether I trembled or not. And last year, I got really into trying to running a mile as fast as possible. I did treadmill runs about 4 times a week and was doing really well until some digestive upset hit me and made life challenging for months. Even then, I still met up with friends and tried to do some outdoor runs for a while… Although, I slowed down significantly by these times and needed breaks because of my discomfort, but I kept trying even though I quietly wondered how weak I must’ve looked.
With that in mind, I also learned from my spin experience that despite my ability to push through, I do need to quit sometimes. Writing that is hard, by the way! I hate the thought of “quitting”, but I must admit that hearing about the people who didn’t care at all if they were judged socially for walking out of a fitness class felt kind of empowering. It must be freeing to say to yourself: this doesn’t suit my body and I don’t care if people think I’m wimpy or out of shape. Again, I re-learned this last year during my running experience. After months of pushing through, I noticed when I took a week off, things started to finally heal in my body. Naturally, I rushed back to my routines at those first signs of recovery to try and “get back on track”, but things flared up again, so I swallowed some humble pie and realized I just simply needed to focus more on healing by prioritizing sleep and finding gentler movements for more than just a few days. I basically learned I had to start listening to my body fully instead of trying to control it because my mind was saying mean things to me.
All in all, life is an experience comprised of many smaller experiences. I’m happy I have the fun story to share with people. Spin class was definitely something I think that was valuable to try. But really, it’s the lessons afterwards that were most valuable.
If you’d like to try a class one day, I hope my takeaways will provide some good pointers for you. Also, it’s a great idea to do a little research. I didn’t realize it, but there’s actually a lot of controversy with spin classes – mainly because of the hematuria mentioned above. While some get addicted to these workouts and love them, there are probably better studio experiences than the one I had to ease your way into them since the average newbie might struggle and wind up injured.
Also, with respect to the mind messages… I think we all can do a little work trying to unpack the messages we give ourselves. As mentioned, there’s a definite plus to pushing oneself, but if you do it because you think you’re weak, fat, or totally unathletic, then that push isn’t so great. For me, I’ve learned even just in the past year that technically speaking, I’m none of the above. I’m definitely strong – especially on a spiritual level. With respect to my body, it’s true that I used to be significantly overweight, but I’ve been within a healthy weight range for many years now even though I’ll probably never be a size 2; I’ve still managed to keep off 70 lbs for over a decade, which is something I’m definitely proud of. And finally, I am indeed athletic in my own right. It turns out that my preference for solo exercise is totally valid. Give me a hard incline to hike up, and I want that type of challenge. Let me fiddle around with a badminton racquet and I’m game even if I’m not good because I enjoy the act of running around and trying to hit something. And I really love bouncing a basketball and trying to score a few baskets just for fun. These things all signal some level of athleticism even if I’m not going to be on any teams or go pro with anything. Just moving and having body awareness is an accomplishment, so it’s nice to re-wire our brains a bit to recognize those things.