Ten Pounds Later #4

This weekend I weighed myself and discovered that I am within 10 pounds of my target weight.  In the past year and a half I have shed 30 pounds and 10 per cent of my body fat.  It has not been easy, but no pain, no gain, as they say.

The last 10 pounds are the hardest to lose.  You think you’ve made it.  You think you can ease up a little bit, have a little bit more cake, workout a little bit less.  No, this is crunch time.  You are within sight of the finish line and it’s time to go hard or go home.

Last year I set a goal to look as good at That Total Age as I did when I was 17.  That doesn’t necessarily mean I will weigh what I weighed at 17.  It means that I will look good, feel good–look better, feel better than 17.  Sure, at 17 I weighed like 100 pounds but I couldn’t run anywhere.  I didn’t lift weights.  I was terribly out of shape.

I have 32 days until I reach that total age.  I’m not sure I can get these last 10 pounds off in 32 days, but I’m going to try like hell.

I joined a new gym over the weekend because the old gym just wasn’t cutting it for me.  For my first day back in the gym (I had been working out at home), I decided to take a spin class.

I swear to God, I lost 72 pounds in that 90 minute class.  If you have never taken a spinning class before, be prepared to hurt in places you have never hurt before.  Be prepared to feel like Death, Satan and your ex-boyfriend are chasing you all at once. 

First of all, the bike is made to be uncomfortable.  You’re not out for an evening ride through the park in the moonlight.  No, you are there to liquify fat and sweat it out your body.  You are there to work.  Work.  Work.  Work.  The seat is mad small, about 2 inches, hard as shit, made of bricks, nails and concrete.  It does not encourage casual sitting. 

Your ass crack literally hurts.  Not your ass.  Your crack.  Like… I don’t even know how to describe it.  Under your ass, those bones, they’re called sitz bones or some shit, that’s what hurts and after about 5 minutes you either can’t take it anymore or you go numb. 

Then you are leaning forward so that most of your weight is on your wrists and forearms.  Your shoulders are on fire.  You are peddling your life away.  The wheel is weighted so it’s going to keep on spinning whether you feel like it or not.  Unless you want your legs to get all tangled up, you better keep spinning! 

The instructor gives you instructions what you are supposed to do, stand up, sit down, stand up, peddle fast, hover, coast, sprint, fast jog, whatever.  This instructor is a lunatic.  Peddle, peddle, get out of your comfort zone.

She is screaming at you like a demonised psycho.  You don’t want to piss her off, so you keep peddling, faster, faster, faster.  Then I’m in this class with these skinny hoes, that are peddling like they are on a Huffy.  They’ve been taking the class so long that it’s nothing to him.

The woman next to me is Lance Armstrong.  She is mad chillin’ the whole time.  I’m about to die and she’s whistlin’ damn dixie.  Okay, I don’t want to look like an asshole, so I try harder. 

My ass hurts.  My feet hurt from being in the stirrups.  My shoulders hurt from holding my own body weight up for 90 minutes.  My wrists hurt.  Even my eyelashes hurt. 

I’m not a big sweater when I work out, but I was sweating buckets.  My t-shirt was completely soaked.  Sweat all down my back, all in my ass, dripping down the end of my nose, all into my mouth. 

If I don’t weigh 12 pounds by the end of this class, I am an alien.

Thighs are burning, calves are burning.  Peddle, peddle, peddle.  I’m freakin’ peddlin’ okay?  I’m peddlin’ like I’m on my way to meet Jesus.  I was peddlin’ so damn fast that even my hip bones were creaking.  This is ridiculous.

Surprisingly, my  heart could withstand the pressure, but the muscles in my body are literally on fire.  By the time we got to the cool down, I don’t even think I could feel anything anymore.  The woman next to me, Lance Armstrong, she is still peddlin’ like I don’t know what.  Okay, the race is over.  You won, hoe.  Damnit.

I get off the bike and my ass is like…. Oh my God.  Seriously.  I mean, seriously.  I did stretch, but I’m about to do some yoga right now because this is not a game, 2009…. I’m dead serious about getting this last little bit of weight off. 

I get in my car to drive home and I don’t even want to sit down.  I want to stand up driving.  I’m even typing this standing up. 

I’m serious. 

I’m going to go back but it’s going to be a few days because my ass just can’t take it anymore right now. 

I’ll let ya’ll know tomorrow if I’m able to walk or not.

But for real, 500 calories burned in 90 minutes.  That’s breakfast and half my lunch.

I’m also going vegetarian for a little while just to make sure.

When you see that chick comin’, you betta back up.  It ain’t a game, 2009!

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