Spin Dating

I am not a newcomer to the world of spinning having dabbled a little last year in the lung gasping, arse breaking exercise that is the spin class.  There is nowhere to hide on a watt bike with the numbers and cutesy little graphs staring you in the face.  You can look at  your watts, your calories, speed, a peanut shaped graph showing quite clearly that your left leg is doing more work than your right, and indeed your revs per minute.  It was a bit of a surprise to me (to understate) to find the instructor advising our baseline cadence should be 90rpm.  Previously I had considered that a bit of a sprint.  Always one to listen to teacher, however, I attempted to plateau at 90rpm between efforts, and tried to convert this into the outdoor world of commuting and mountain biking.  Previously, I'd always been a bit of a grind it up the hills kind of a girl.  Now, I had more options.

The next thing the spinning classes taught me was Out of Saddle Climbing.  This was a whole world of horror.  I wanted to die, or to throw up or to faint but none of these things actually happened.  Instead, I learned how to come out of the saddle, what gear to use, what position to take and what leg speeds were possible.  Now, I enjoy it.  Short gnarly sections of steep uphill are a joy on the mountain bike as I launch out of the saddle, giving the guys behind a view of me shakin' my arse, shakin' my arse, shakin' my arse.  I like to disseminate pleasure to the world.

Spinning classes are very much a removal of excuses.  It's not a gym, but a pay as you go, and the classes take place in the building I work in.  There's not a reason in the world not to attend ... except ... cycle commuting.  If I bike to work, it stands to reason I don't spin, and I save myself the £4 for the spinning class, and about £2 in petrol for every day.  As the mornings and evenings get lighter the spinning classes start to become a thing of the past. Now, indeed, they are a punishment for not cycling to work.  An interesting punishment as every time I get on the spinning bike I push myself more, learn something more about my limits and ways to break through them.

Weirdly, my spinning tutor has offered to accompany me on a mountain bike ride.  A natural sceptic I ask myself why.  The options are thusly:

• he is a kind man who has seen my bruises and wishes to support my skills development
• he is horribly fit and wants someone to bike with who makes him look good
• he has no mates and is desperate for biking buddies
• he finds me daft and funny and good entertainment with the possible bonus of getting to see me fall off
• he wishes to get horizontal with me
• hmm.