Sweat it...

So, after my 5km walk – I’m not running again yet, I’m trying to be a good, obedient girl due to my pulled muscle – it completely sucks of course – and after an hour of RPM (Raw power in motion on spin bikes aka really painful muscles on bikes with tweeny weeny seats), I did aqua aerobics. I’m a great believer in trying everything at least once. Would I do the mermaidian aqua thing again? Er, no. It’s a little tame for me. I’m one of those people who likes to sweat profusely while doing things hard and fast and painfully because in my mind all that torture means serious kill-you-or-cure-you-fitness. I like to limp away exhausted. I want my muscles with a side order of oh-my-god-why-did-I-do-that-pain and knowing that the litres of toxins sweated out means I can go put more evil, naughty, lovely things in and sweat them all out again. 

Nobody ever drowned in his own sweat ~Ann Landers 

Both tears and sweat are salty, but they render a different result. Tears will get you sympathy; sweat will get you change ~Jesse Jackson 

Ponderation...

So, I went to a RPM class today. It’s where you join a class of people all on stationary  bikes, that have gears, and you torture yourself by changing gears to make the ride harder, faster, more painful as you pedal like mad, stand and pedal, sit and pedal and sweat profusely as loud, fast paced music pounds away in a room that is darkened but for those black lights that make your white socks glow and the instructor yells at you to go harder and faster and daring you to give up. As if. Anyway, as I was doing the pedal, stand, sit, sweat, looking at my glowing white socks, it occurred to me that my arse was on fire with pain. Why? Those bike seats are small. Fat arse + small seat = youch and bloody hell.  

This made me ponder the scientifics of arses. Surely a larger arse would make the ride easier?  You know more padding, less bone exposure on a teeny, weeny seat. But it doesn’t and I was thrilled at the standing up and pedalling like mad parts. Sitting? Not so thrilled. So, if a larger arse doesn’t cushion pain, what happens to people with small bums? Is it a case, as I tried to explain my theory to a good friend who always looks at me with that indulgent you’re-mad-look-but-being-a-friend-I-will-listen-to-your-latest-theory, that smaller bottoms some how mystically fit the seat better because there’s no overflow and therefore less pressure on sensitive areas of derriere and lady bits?

It’s a ponderation…bums…always with us…always causing problems.