I got there, my first spinning class took place yesterday at 9.45am. I entered the room and saw people fiddling with their bikes, and so I feigned confidence and pathetically mimicked hand shuffling movements having no clue as to what I needed to do. A nice Irish woman saw my desperate attempts and came to my aid.
Once the bike was set, the room began to fill. And I noticed people greedily grabbing at the blue tissue dispenser - obscene quantities were being squirreled under handle bars and I too went to collect my share. There will be sweat, I thought nervously.
Instructor appears, lights dim, music blasts. Ten minutes in and I realise I have forgotten to eat something, I feel dizzy and all I want to do is go home. It hurts, it really hurts.
I contemplate jumping off, sneaking out. Would anyone notice? Then a large lady to my right steps off her bike. Instructor shouts 'WHERE ARE YOU GOING?', 'to get more tissue' she replies. Yes, I think, they would notice.
So I stick at it, and it gets better - the pain becomes a pleasure, the increasing sweat a salty victory.
By the end I realise it might just be ok. Then I spent the rest of the day touring London on my bicycle with friends. That was delicious.
I have only just remebered the absolute joy of feeling truly fit - and it's addictive.
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