To offset the additional cookie intake this time of year (and because I'm apparently somewhat of a masochist, not to be confused with my husband's former band "Massakist"), I have been upping the ante for myself at the Y. Monday night, for example, I took my first ever SPIN class.
As we hopped on the bikes and began to warm-up, I turned to my friend Julie. "So how long does this last?"
"About fifty minutes."
My heart sank. Actually, it began to look for the exits, because I was about to demand a great deal of work from it. Around the fortieth minute, I noticed I was looking at the clock an awful lot. Ten minutes to go, I thought, allowing myself to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And just at that moment, the instructor shouted, "We usually go for just fifty minutes, but I thought we'd go a bit longer today. Is everyone cool with that?"
My foot fell out of the pedal holster and I would have kicked her with it, had I been able to do anything other than sweat, pant, or take giant, rubbery steps like a cartoon character from the thirties.
Surprisingly, my legs are not sore from the ordeal, although now I remember why bicycling isn't my favorite activity in any season.
Next week, Zumba and pilates. Although it's been so cold here lately that I think I'm getting a pretty good core workout just by shivering.
PS: It's my best friend Cindy's birthday today ... I based the character of Jillian on her in the book, and she was SUCH an incredibly good sport about it. The universe and I would like to wish you a happy birthday, Cindy!!!!