Scottish people are mean

Since beginning work I haven't managed to time it well enough to get to many classes, but I'm slowly losing my enthusiasm and my attention span is lacking, so this weekend I thought I'd try some more classes. Saturday brought Body Conditioning again, but this time with Lee Burnett.

I was a little anxious, considering the other class I had taken led by a man had been more like a PE lesson and nothing like the session advertised. In fact I had actually avoided the 10am Saturday sesh just for this reason, I suspected I wouldn't enjoy the class as much as when it is run by a female (particularly a sparky blonde.). But on this day I decided to put my prejudice aside, and try out the class.

You can only imagine my surprise when it turned out that Lee Burnett is a woman. Whatsmore, she then opened her mouth... and she was... Scottish... 

But as I said, prejudices aside.

So we began the class. It was definitely one of the better classes, it was repetitive but not to the boring lengths that made it boring. However it was painful. Very painful. And there is something both compelling and soothing about a Scottish accent. One minute she was nice as pie, the next minute I felt like I was in the military. At one point, during a lunge she moved my back leg further back from my (like I wasn't vulnerable enough) and soothingly said "That's better isn't it?" I felt I had to agree but I think in Scotland "better" means "worse".

She kept telling everyone how small and weedy our tricep muscles were. I would have been offended, but it's undeniable. She made us press up, plank, and everything else also involved being on our arms, to the point I welcome the 50 stomach crunches (that was more like 70 because she "lost count").

I hobbled away, shaking, weak, and the only thought I could muster: Scottish people are mean.

Losing your V cycle Plates

Please play this video while you read for um-beyonce.

You sit there, nervous and inexperienced, wondering what the next hour will bring. Then he comes in, the lights go off and you hold your breath until it begins. A haze of sweat and music and pain, each position brings relief for a few seconds until it just hurts again. You focus on a spot on a wall, fighting the cramp in your foot and just pray it'll be over soon. Later, you stand in the shower, aching, bruised, feeling like you'll never walk again, battling in your mind with conflicting feelings of regret and satisfaction.

They say its like riding a bike. It isn't.

I think the only way I managed to get through the 45 minute "V Cycle" class was by making comparisons to the classic concepts of virginity loss. The only part I lied about was when I said "he", the instructor was actually female but I changed it for effect #artisticlicense #itsmyblogandicandowhatiwant

This class is hard. Not only that but it wasn't really what I expected. I was quite happy cycling in rhythm with everything, then I realised some people just show off and cycle like mentalists with no regard to the beat of the music. The fact the room is dark apart from green lazers is also very off putting. I came to the gym, not a party. In fact when I walked in the room, before the lights were completely out, it felt like when you're the first ones in a club, the talking is louder than the music and everyone is standing in small groups with the odd super drunk person already dancing (or super fit person already cycling in this case). 

There is also a lot of room for cheating, you're supposed to "touch up" and "touch down" the tension of the bike... "TOUCH UP A FULL 360 DEGREES"... *Jeffery subtly notches it up about 4*... boom... EASY. In fairness, it became apparent after the first two minutes I had no chance of keeping up with everyone else. She also kept shouting things that sounded like techniques for pedalling but I'm not sure there is more than one way to pedal a bike.

The best part of the session was the final song, literally nothing made me happier than the sudden appearance of a remix of this wonderful Indie power ballad by The Calling, which rounded off my Virginity/V Cycle metaphor perfectly. However my sex mataphor was slightly tainted by the fact she shouted things like "ATTACK"... "UP FOR 8" and constantly told you how long was left. That would be somewhat of a mood killer. 

They say its like riding a bike. But the only thing that is like riding a bike, is riding a bike.

Overall, this class gives too much opportunity to slack which isn't good. I did sweat a lot, but I didn't particularly enjoy it and I don't think a class that only works one part of my body is particularly helpful. I also am pissed that no one can keep rhythm - you'll never make it in show business.

6/10.