Day 7 - Never underestime the power of a good sweat (and other things)

Soul Cycle - Coral Gables



So we learned a couple of things today: First, I need to work on my shoulder endurance. The second: don’t go crazy on spicy food the night before a high intensity workout. Yes, yes, MAYBE I should have learned that last week after Chef Bee’s Death Pepper, but I chalked that up to a hangover. This time? Notsomuch.

Me second SoulCycle class began simply enough, with me failing to secure the seat well enough when I reset it, and immediately falling down to knees-to-nose level as soon as I sat down. Once a nice SoulCycle employee was nice enough to come help me fix it, and the rest of the room probably thought I was an idiot, we got to work.

The class was much like the previous week’s for the first 20 minutes or so, just with considerably fewer people. And only one other guy. The problem was I think Aubrey either had her mic up to high or had way too much coffee this morning, because every other word she said just sounded like edgy feedback, so I just had to kind of watch her to see what to do. Also, it was hard to understand what she was saying about the dials, so I was already a little lost to start.

Matters didn’t get much better 25 minutes in when I started to feel that awful gas one does after eating insanely spicy food. After my dinner at Talavera the night before where I downed roughly 3 bowls of their extra-spicy salsa (maybe with chips) I had woken up feeling that sort of acidic gas. I figured I’d sweat it out. I was wrong.

I was also wrong in trying to be a toughguy and do the 10 minute upper-body workout with the heaviest weights they had. Now, I’ll preface this by saying “heaviest weights’ here means all of 5lbs. Which, as the biggest person in the class by about 75 pounds, I assumed must be for me. Any less, and I’m lifting the same weights as a 120lb female. And I’d felt emasculated enough after watching the sparring session on Saturday.

I made  it through the curs, even though I couldn’t keep up the pace of the cycle. Once she told us to life our weights over out head, I was done. I’m sure there’s some complicated principle of physics here that says it’s harder to hold a weight out a further distance from your body, and whatever it is, that’s my excuse. I made it all of about 30 seconds before I had to put my arms down. Meanwhile my fellow SoulCyclers were all waving their weights in the air like it was the mainstage at Ultra, and the 12th DJ that day had told them to “put your fucking hand up, Miami!”

This went on for ten minutes, me having to rest while the ladies in the class just held their weights up like it was nothing. I either need to work on my shoulders, or be a little less ambituous next time. As the weights got heavier, my stomach hurt more, and I started to think I had the stomach flu. That’s it. Calling in sick. Taking today off. I’m done.

I completely half-assed the rest of the class because, well, I felt like a baloon filled with corrosive compounds was inflating in my intestines, but I mercifuly made it through. As soon as we finished stretching I hightailed it to the locker room and attempted to sweat or shit out whatever was in there. It reminded me of Ironman Florida, when about 3 miles into the marathon I spent 15 minutes in an outshouse sweating and relieveing myself of the Cliff vars, Gatorade, and other weirs stuff I’d been using as food that day.

Never underestimate the power of a good shit sweat. Once I was done, I showered, packed up my bags, and felt back to 100%. So, lesson learned, keep the food mild next Sunday night.

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