There is a choice in here somewhere

My first attempt at spin class which Jeff invited me to attend with him last week was, with my thinking at the time, going to be my first and last. It was horrible and trumped with me being lead through the spin by my peddles rather than by my legs. Nothing worse then feeling like you're trussed into some kind of torture machine that is going to spin you right off the front because there are no damn brakes on the thing.

But I'm nothing if not a trooper so I went to Monday night's spin class again because Jeff asked and thought I should give it a good second try...getting back on the horse and all that mishigas. That instructor, a tight knot of a UK chick named Jess was awesome. Great music and she came around and set me up correctly so that I was peddling the bike instead of it peddling me. I was able to stand in position two and three at all the right spots and put in the full workout. In fact, I worked out so hard, by the time we got done and I wobbled down to get my stuff from the locker, I thought I would puke. Which, while bad enough, was only outdone by me getting on the subway, still sure puking was eminent, with the additional feeling that I could very well crap myself before I got home. And when I got home, the urge to purge had subsided but the underwear didn't make it. So essentially, I worked out so hard I partially lost bowel control. So, like, yay me again. Feh.