Two weeks ago I decided it was time to face reality and examine the squeezable & soft body that has replaced my once very lean and muscular body. I was trying to convince myself that things really are not that bad when the back side of my right thigh winked a coy “Hi! My name is cellulite! Let’s go eat chocolate!” at me.
That’s right. My thigh cellulite winked at me. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean, either. Y’all have seen when that little cellulite indentation takes on a life of its own one morning, winking at you and saying in a VERY annoying tone “How YOU doin’?” And then you die a little.
That wink was the final straw. The mini muffin top was bad enough, but now winking legs? Today I launched full-out war on everything south of my equator and attended…. my first spin class.
I have always been a fan of working out. I love lifting weights, yoga*, biking and walking outside but I just cannot get into group fitness classes. The idea of spending 60 plus minutes in a room packed with sweaty people bouncing and bumping all over the place really grosses me out. Spinning is just as freaky. You want me to put my rump on a tiny little seat where COUNTLESS other rumps have huffed, puffed and left behind butt sweat? No thank you, I’ll stick with my old-fashioned bike.
The problem with walking and biking outdoors is winter in Kentucky. Here we get cold rain, sleet, ice and a smattering of actual snow. When we do get snow (which I love) it is usually the wet heavy kind and it is always accompanied by humidity. While walking and riding a bike in this kind of weather is possible, it is far from enjoyable and torturing myself in gross weather conditions is not really in line with the whole “I need to take care of my body so it can make a baby before the lupus monster gets me” lifestyle I’m trying to focus on.
Faced with winking cellulite and gross weather, I decided to suck it up and plop my bum on a communal bike seat (gag). I even did this without first disinfecting it, although I did consider if I could cover the seat with a towel and still manage to not fall off the stationary bike (a legitimate concern after reading this).
Luckily this morning’s class was quite small, just a handful of people, none of whom were a size 0 with C cups. The instructor helped me adjust the bike for my height and did not laugh or say “Dang, woman, look at those winking thighs!”
During the class the lights are turned out and black lights and a few Christmas lights turned on. I was relieved to learn this as I REALLY was not looking forward to watching as I huffed along on a stationary bike. The music was upbeat and helped to keep my mind off the fact that I was trying to peddle away from cellulite.
Dare I say it; I actually enjoyed the class and am looking forward to going again on Wednesday morning and pushing myself harder. I kept myself at a more moderate pace this time, as I didn’t want to pass out, vomit, fall or a combination of all three!
I am also excited as spinning is something I can do during infertility treatments and IVF cycles. Thanks to my nice cysty ovaries, I’m always at high risk of ovarian torsion while doing stims. My doctor does not want me running, jumping or doing any excessive bending. Spinning, though, is nothing more than pumping my legs in a seated or standing position. Seems ovary-safe to me!
How about y’all? Do you take spin classes? What is your preferred method of cardio during an IVF cycle?
* Going to a yoga class was a pretty big step for me, although I NEVER use the communal mats. Have you smelled those things? One word – feet. I have grown to love yoga class, though, and very rarely am I just horrified by the thought of sweaty people bending in unnatural positions all around me, except of course, when someone lets a bodily function fly, but that is another blog post all together.