Dear Kid,

I, your favorite mother, took my first spin class last night.

Lindsey TheBloggerJournalist and Spinning Instructor is crazy fit and has been teaching spinning for quite some time. I met Lindsey when she was blogging for TEDxCincinnati and she told me she taught spin at the Rec Center. I thought Why not? Turns out there Are Reasons Why Not.

I walked into the room basically the same mom you know and love. I crawled out a mere puddle of person.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

When I got to the spin room, Lindsey greeted me cheerfully. The spin bike gloated. When machinery gloats, you should probably worry.

The first thing one does when one goes to a spin class is set the bike for your (lack of) height. Of course if one isn’t careful, one gets bitten by the bike pedal. Which looks like a lion swatted the back of my leg. It was even more elegant in person. Lindsey, to her credit, did not laugh. At least not out loud.

So we (and by “we” I mean Lindsey) adjusted the bike. The bike purred—it likes her. I climbed on to test the fit. The bike bit me. Relationship established.

Then Lindsey explained how the gears and the monitor worked. So far so good.

The music started and we were off.

While we gently peddled through the warm up (I’ve got this!), Lindsey the Sadist showed us how to ride sitting and how to ride standing. She talked about setting intentions for the ride. (My intention is to not fall off the bike and to make it out alive.) She glowed as she talked about spinning and how much she loves it and loves sharing it with people.

My bike chuckled softly.

When machinery chuckles softly in an evil manner, you should probably worry.

“Set your bike at your base level!” called Lindsey, “That should be between 4 and 10 on your gears!”

I set my gears at negative 273. The bike helpfully settled in and shifted itself to positive 500.

“Ok!” called Lindsey, “We’re going to climb! Set your gear level up 2!” Against my better judgement (and by “better judgement” I mean physical capabilities) I shifted up two levels. The bike called me a wuss. I ignored the bike’s commentary and focused on pedaling. “Up another level!” I shifted. “And one more! We’re almost halfway there!” Halfway? Are you nuts?

Meanwhile, the fat cells in my body were having great fun. They played musical chairs but refined the rules so no one was “out.” In fact, I’m pretty sure they invited a few new fat cell friends to join them. I am the only person in the world who can go to a spin class and gain weight.

We climbed. We recovered (“This is active recovery!” I’m aware. Thanks.) We climbed again.

Once I was completely dead, Lindsey chirped, “Now we’re going to stand up!” We’re done? I did this! No problem! Only she meant we were going to keep spinning while standing up.

Do you know what is harder than spinning? Spinning while you stand up.

Do you know why? I have no clue. The bike probably knew, but it was too busy going all 50 Shades of Spinning on me.

I stood. I sat. I stood more. Sit! Stand! Sit! Stand! Sit! Roll over and play dead! No prob.

You know how the first time you ride a bike after a long time of not riding a bike you get saddle sore? Double it for spin. Triple it if you have a bike that hates you.

I dialed 1-800-SEND-A-WHEELCHAIR.

After the class, I decided to tweet about it.

Took first spin class. #Survived

And then

First spin class ever. Not sure if I’m exhilarated or too dead to feel pain.

I’ll probably spin again. Possibly even before I hit my grave.

Love, Mom