Spun

I went to the Saturday morning spin class and we had that Kiwi lass again, the one with the lovely thick accent (previous post, "bug strong ligs"). Today's highlight was when she said we all needed to wipe our bikes down after the class because they get a "but switty". She also said she was going back to NZ for xmas and that she was going to freshen up her accent, so I can't wait for January.

There's a point about five minutes into any spin class where a thought starts running around in my head, along the lines of I don't need to be doing this, it's undignified, why can't I just give in and become the fat man I really want to be etc. But I somehow hang on. There's always the temptation to really take it easy, noone really knows how hard you're working. Perhaps sensing my moral cowardice she said to us "you've chosen to come here this morning, you might as well do it properly", or words to that effect, and being the suggestible person that I am I thought "she's right!" and I knuckled down and did what I was told.