All Spin Instructors Are NOT Created Equal

This post is dedicated to my two favorite spin instructors, who probably know who they are - the Head Coach of the Tri Club, and a certain West Coast Brit.


This is NOT the Y

I did an hour spin class last night and a short stint on the tread this morning.

I hate to keep repeating myself, but this is NOT the Y.

During spin last night, it became patently obvious that Y members and LA Fitness members are a totally different animal (maybe even species.) I lasted the whole class (as if there was any doubt), and was quite proud to see that, despite getting my ass kind of kicked, "30 %" and "70%" were actually one-third and three-quarters turns of the tension knob (unlike some of the people around me).

Ok, enough being petty and/or gloat-y. . . . on with the observations that may/may not be gross overgeneralizations. The best way I can describe the difference to you is this: Y members are serious and LA Fitness members are not. The funniest part about this? LAF members think they're serious, while Y members are more low-key.

For example, outfits at the Y are not as tight, makeup is not as flashy, and the place is frequently overrun with kids. Conversely, there are more sterotypical Gym Bunnies at LAF, complete with heavy eye makup and Bebe track suits/sports bras. Not a kid in sight at any of the locations or any times I've attended. But, amazingly enough, the Y members I know (and I know dozens), are all, in general, more fit, effortlesssly attractive people. (Think: no heavy black eyeliner needed.) They possess more quiet confidence/cockiness than flash/wannabe glamour, and they're almost all excellent athletes.

The vibe and instructors in group excersize are also completely different.

**Disclaimer: not trying to offend anyone here . . . just voicing my opinion. I am not an expert, nor do I claim to be**

The difference I noticed at spin may be coincidental, and I'm sure it has more to do with individual instructor style, but the stark contrast cannot go unremarked. A typical spin class at all 3 of the YMCAs I've visited were likely to be attended by 5 or more triathletes wearing either race t-shirts, spin/tri shorts, and calm smiles. I was the keener dork of the class last night in my spin shorts and race tee. The Y instructors usually have awesome form on the bike, walk around some during class, talk to everyone, adjust your gears for you if they know you well enough, etc. Nothing against last night's instructor - she was cool - but she sat on the bike the entire time and was focused more on how much effort she could crank out than her form. She didn't walk around until the end of the class and she didn't offer any helpful instruction.

Sigh. I'm so spoiled. I keep having to remind myself that this is all for the good of my budget . . . . And now I sound like a pompous ass for acring/noticing . . .


The Fourth Discipline
Unsurprisingly, my efforts to improve my life overall post-diagnosis have extneded to diet. I'm supposed to eat more protein than carbs, especially because I'm insulin resistant. I'm trying to make an effort to do this more frequently.


Crap I Want to Do Before I (Well, You Know)
Thyroid cancer is SUPER treatable, but anything involving cancer makes you consider your mortality. So, finally, I've decided I need to get off my ass and go sailing and to Europe some time soon. I've always wanted to, and I don't see any time like the present.

Continuity Training, Perspective, and Budget

Right now I'm doing what I call Continuity Training.

Basically, before my thryoidectomy, I want to get into racing condition. That way, I'm in better shape to fight during recovery AND I am prepared in advance if the thyroidectomy and hormone supression cause weight gain/ difficulty. And, of course, if *cross fingers* it's NOT cancer, or I DON'T need rads, I can still try to race and train with little lost fitness after surgery. (The Thyroid Cancer Survivors Group call it RAI for radiocative isotope, but I like rads. It's funnier. I ws a child of the 80s. It makes killing cancer seem . . .well . . . rad.)

Last night I logged almost two miles on the tread followed by an hour-long yoga class. It sure as hell wasn't the power yoga I love and really can't afford right now, but it was better than no yoga at all. (On the plus side, since I'm used to hot-as-hell, ass-kicking vinyasa/ashtanga yoga, I felt like a pro in the class despite my long-time absence from regular practice.) I met a girlfriend and we both ran late, so my goal of 2-3 miles as my return to running was cut a little short.

Tonight's plan is an hour-long spin class. Tomorrow is either run/weights or run/swim. Saturday and Sunday depend on what I accomplish Friday, but I need at least 1 long swim and bike.

Remember PERSPECTIVE and BUDGET? When I started this year's training blog, I mentioned that those two concepts would shape the overall theme of my year.

Without further adieu, here are the updates on those two.

first, the short one: BUDGET

I was FINALLY able to drop the second line I'd added to my cell phone plan (for someone who ended up never paying for it, anyway.) Now, since I don't have a "share" plan, I can also jump down in minutes. Total savings: $30-40 a month.

Second, I found the shoe I'm wearing now online, and the next chance I get, I will probably buy one or two pair. They're $40 a pair cheaper than "next year's model." Even if I don't end up RACING at FL 70.3, I will need them. I'm on the hunt for last year's cycling shoe, too!

Last, I found a gym with a pool and multiple locations. This month will be expensive for me because I joined just as my last YMCA dues hit - but, going forward, it will save me $30 a month.

I need a second to whine here . . .

This gym is NOT the Y. The showers are not as pretty. There's not free towel service. It's one of those standard, traditional, meat-market fitness mills. I miss the Y.

But . . .

It's clean, it's a LOT nicer than a Bally Total Fitness, they all have pools, and it's HALF THE PRICE. Probably the best part of all of it is that I can now work out with 2 of my girlfriends, too. That's gonna be important in the coming months when sugery, meds and (hopefully not, but possibly) radiation get me feeling like ass.

now,for PERSPECTIVE

I'm the heaviest I've ever been, I know I look awful in tight clothes, yet I walked in the gym last night like I owned the place.

Why?

Well, pardon me while I toot my own horn here, but . . .

I'm a full 30-70 pounds heavier than most of the women in that gym, but I'm capable of running 26.2 miles, swimming miles and miles, and cycling distances most of them never dreamed of attempting.

And I've been doing it all with asthma and thryoid cancer.

Yeah, I know I've always had health problems. Health problems people didn't believe existed or didn't understand. But asthma? People understand the severity of asthma. Thyroid disease? People understand. And cancer people definitely don't underestimate.

But it's not just that. For some reason, it hit me last night, that I have been working full time, going to school (some times full time), and complaining about a 3.89 GPA, a 6-minute PR and how my bosses aren't pleased that I'm only SECOND in the company at certain projects, etc. And I've been doing THAT all with asthma and thryoid cancer.

See, I never really believed I was doing my best. Even when I gave 100%. I never, ever, EVER believed I was good enough. I ALWAYS thought I could push harder, give more, score higher.

After a hard test, I'd get back a 90% and think, if I had studied better, I could have gotten a 95.
After a hard race, I'd look back at my time and think, if I had pushed harder, I could have PR'd (or PR'd by more).
After a rough day at work, I'd always get defensive about the incessant criticism I recieve and think, they need to be happy that I'm doing as well as I am.

The truth was, *I* needed to be happy I was doing that well.

Now I look at ALL of that and think, on top of the financial, family, emotional, mental, relationship, and work problems I don't even SHARE with anyone . . .

I've been doing it all with asthma and thryoid cancer.

And, all of a sudden, I feel like fucking superwoman.

How's THAT for persepctive?

It's like I have a new lease on life. Now, instead of feeling like what can I do?, I'm having more and more frequent moments of what can't I do??

don't get me wrong - there are still bad moments. There has been, and will continue to be, depression, frustration, crying jags, and all-out despair.

But at least I know now what I'm really capable of. And it gives me completely different perspective on my goals and on my past accomplishments/disappointments. Sometimes I even catch myself thinking, if I can make it through this, I can make it through anything.