In less than 4 months I shall be donning gusset supported spandex and hoisting my carcass on to a two wheeler to explore the Contrasts Of Catalonia! I know it all sounds very humiliating and rather hard work but the last tour of Italy was so enjoyable we thought we should do it again. Wearing lycra with padding is not the greatest fashion statement one can make but it is imperative one have good support and I don't mean the guy with the back up truck and puncture repair kit!.
Being incapacitated for some months now due to a foot problem means my athletic physique (who am I kidding) has segued into somewhat of a flubbery excess that is held in place by rather obliging waistbands. So I decided now was the time for me to up the ante and get my game on in preperation for the tour de Spain.
I joined yet another gym. Only the third in 18 months. Why do I always start with such enthusiasm and optimism? You'd think by now I would have learnt that this shape is here to stay! Only the surgeons knife and the sesation of cake eating will remove the rolls and a girl has to have her cake and eat it.
This time my aim is to get fit and ready to hit those hills at warp speed ahead.
My latest little hobby is spinning as it puts less stress on my foot and should shape up my bits ready for the saddle. I am a relative late comer to this sport.
Is it classified as a sport or an activity?
I have only attended 3 classes and do wonder what the heck I am doing right and wrong.
Fernando/Manuel/Pedro the Profesors de Cycling all have a penchant for flashing lights, pulsating rhythms, dimmed lighting and yelling so close to the microphone that it all sounds slurred and drunkenly nonsensical. Granted my Spanish is not perfecto but even I can comprehend monosylibic instructions such as slow/fast/left/right/up/down. My biggest fear is when the teacher alights from his bike and aims straight for me. Gulp! Mostly it is to adjust one of the 6 levers on my stationary contraption or yell above the din so the whole class will turn to watch my humilation at being found pedalling on Granny speed.
The fact is for now I am there and participating, the technique and speed will one hopes increase over the coming weeks. I doubt I will be left to my own devices for too long and some helpful tutor will point out my short comings. I may yet walk out of there lookng like an understudy for Mma Rawotsa.
I doubt I shall be appointed the yellow jersey this summer on our country amble but if I can make it up the odd hill without crying and whining like a toddler I shall be happy enough.
Revelation
Finally to day the light came on all be it intermitently green, yellow and red. Alfonso actually made sense and left the main light on long enough for me to exam the bike and discover that the big, red, tongue depressor is in fact a break and the knob above adjusts the intensity of speed. And here was me thinking folks just bent down there to grab their water bottle. See, so you do learn something new every day.
2 comments:
As I drove down the lane, I noticed several cyclists and actually thought, "I should probably practice that a bit."
Somehow I don't think my gentle walking/tennis routine is going to prepare me!
My gym? Haven't been since Xmas. Money done a rathole.
I feel I need to prepare well in advance. Not sure if a stationary bike will do the trick.
I think I need ear plugs as the pounding beat may send me in to an epilectic fit.
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