Devil Bikes

I woke up this morning with absolute knowledge that I was not going to my biology class.

I pretended for about 5 minutes that this was something I actually had to think about. Turned on my straightener and everything. After some deep considerations I decided it was not meant to be. Hey, first day I have missed and I got a slamming 93% on my exam yesterday. So I can reward myself right?

The problem was my visualization of the rest of the day. I figured I would wake up in an hour or two, prepare like a professional for the classes ahead of me, and I would spend my evening studying the material I was currently missing.

WELP, that didn’t happen. I woke up at the pathetic time of 12:00, and I was equally as tired as I was at 8:00. This is when the rational part of my brain knew the day was not going correctly, but the sunshines and rainbows part told me it would be the most productive day ever! Have you ever slept so much that the entire day feels like this weird half dream, half awake, haze? Yupp. And no amount of coffee can combat this level of tired? It’s because your body is pissed off at you. The damn 8-9 hours of sleep were adequate until you abused it.

Anyway, I went to my classes in that haze, made no effort to participate, and learned nothing. That’s probably not true, but I had literally no desire to be in class, and wanted to punch everyone (except for cute boy (there’s a cute boy that only gets mentioned here)). What’s frustrating is a couple weeks ago I got 5 hours of sleep and was incredibly productive. This is a direct violation to my deep love for sleeping.

But wait, there is more to my mess of a day. Yesterday, I thought going to spin class was a fun idea for exercise. Something new, different than running, and I could attend twice a week. I arrived at our wellness center full of positivity knowing I would exceed at this workout. I am fit, right? I watch the Biggest Loser and if they can do it, then I am totally capable. After awkwardly going to the locker room 4 separate times, trying to look like a normal person that understands this gym thing, I entered the little room with the devil bicycles.

I grabbed the first one I thought was adequate and introduced myself to the instructor. I peddled a little while watching the guy in front me peddle as if he was being chased by a dinosaur (class still hadn’t started). She started the music and off we went. I won’t go in to any great detail, but HOLY SHIT. Standing up while peddling, and then bending forward WHILE standing up and peddling is not something my muscles have ever, EVER, needed to do. My legs were giving out after only 15 minutes. There was literally no way I was going to make it any longer than 20 minutes.

I finally gave in to failure and got off the devil bike. I tried extremely hard to hold my composure until I got to the locker room but I knew I looked ridiculous. I entered the locker room and was positive this was the closest I had been to death. I basically collapsed on to the bench, completely nauseous, my legs totally numb.

Now I had to face the oncoming torture of walking home, with many steps and hills. I regained my composure, walked with as much pride as I could past the class still going on, and went outside to my journey home. To put it simply, I thought steps and walking were my enemies yesterday. Then I woke up this morning.

I have avoided everything that I could today, including biology class, because I might need to go to the hospital for broken muscles. The problem is that I have never felt so physically defeated by something. I am thinking about attending spin class again tomorrow.


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