as they say...shit happens

In my quest for a Marisa Miller body (not in this lifetime) I try new fitness classes every so often. Yesterday it was spin. Now, I've taken 2 spin classes before and I wasn't very good (aka after 15 minutes I was bored/exhausted). However, this is a new studio in a fancy part of town and I figured "hey, why the hell not?".

I was supposed to go with one of my best friends but she sent me a text early on saying she got food poisoning and wasn't going to be able to make it. Ugg....my anxiety started to kick in about a) going some place I'd never been before and b) having no safety net in going with someone I know so thus having to walk in alone...and loserlike (at least in my head). I took some deep breaths, ate something and told myself I'd be OK.

On my way there I started to get more and more anxiety "would everyone stare at me when I walk in?", "what if I'm the last person there?", "what if everyone is way better than me and I look like the fat kid?", "what if I fall off the bike?". My stomach started churning..... and churning...and churning. By the time I got there I was pretty positive I was going to shit my pants. Yep. Positive. I walked in and no one was in the lobby. Shit (almost literally). The woman walks out and I go "where's your restroom?". She replies "oh it's in the very back, but let me get you to sign the waiver first". I sign. No fucking idea what I just signed. For all I know they're going to beat me in there and I won't even be able to walk again. Then she goes "Ok, now Mike (the teacher) will get you all set up on a bike". "I really need to go the bathroom first". She stares at me. Lady this is no joke. So I walk (ok, borderline run..kind of like trot) to the bathroom. It's. Not. Pretty.

I find my way to a bike (feeling severely dehydrated at this point) and just repeat the mantra "it's only an hour, you can do it..at least you look 5 pounds thinner". Mike explains to the class that there will be a giant projector showing where everyone's, but insists "it is not a competition, you're only competing against yourself".

Yah, suck it buddy, I'm racing all these bitches. So the race begins....err I mean the class. I manage to hold the lead for 20 minutes (knowing I can't sustain the pace). I hold 2nd place for a solid half hour. The last 10 minutes though a girl manages to catch up to me, I'm frantically pedaling...she's frantically pedaling....last sprint begins..I see her legs whirling and whirling, I feel dehydration setting in, but I'll be damned if I give up. Just as I feel the effect of my sudden loss of all the inner contents of my body, Mike calls it "DONE!"

I look up....bitch beat me by 8 points.

I ended up in 3rd - bronze medal. No one even remembers who wins bronze....

I blame poomageddon. Next time though...next time gold is mine.