Piggysnoot

I signed up for an indoor cycling class at our local rec center. I’ve been going to the rec center about four days a week for the past month. Trying to lose that “baby fat”, which, let’s be honest is really pre-baby fat caused by terrible eating habits. Add to that the fact that I have some jeans from the summer after high school that are super cute (and expensive because I could drop $50 on a pair of jeans back then since I didn’t have real bills to pay) that I want to wear again. After worshiping the stair-master for four weeks I felt like I needed something more…shall we say…structured. I prepaid for the classes so I wouldn’t go to one class and quit. It’s a four week class that meets once a week. I see why it only meets once a week. You will, too, by the time you finish reading this. The first class was canceled because we had a blizzard last Saturday. I must admit I was a little relieved. I was all, “well I was supposed to go to a cycling class but it was canceled…aww shucks…” Really I was thinking, “Thank GOD for that blizzard…one more week of sleeping in on Saturday morning.” Did I mention the class is at 8:30. That’s 8:30 AM. On Saturdays.

Today was my actual first class. Allow me to clear up a few misconceptions and possibly set the record straight about cycling classes:

1) Even though it looks like the people inside are KILLING themselves, no one dies in cycling class. At least not in the one I was at today.

2) Anyone, no matter their size, shape, or age can take a cycling class. You don’t have to be super fit or Lance Armstrong to cycle. You set your own pace. Go as slow (or fast, if you’re a crazy bitch) as you like.

3) Don’t try and keep up with the crazy bitches that are going super fast. This is not their first class. Some of them (the extra crazy ones) take this class two to three times A WEEK. These are the ones that wear padded bicycle shorts and sit in the front row of bikes.

4) When the instructor says, “your first class is going to be the worst…you’ll probably want to quit…you might feel like you’re going to die…but you should keep coming…it gets easier.” She’s telling the truth. At least about the first class being the worst. And that whole you might feel like you’re going to die part…she’s telling the truth about that, too. I can’t say if it gets any easier or not since this was my first one.

5) When the instructor says, “after the first class you’re going to be a little saddle sore,” what she means is your ASS IS GOING TO HURT. Like two seconds into your 45 minute class you’ll be wishing you were giving birth…because THAT didn’t hurt your va-jay-jay and ass NEARLY as much as sitting on that bike seat. You’ll see why Susie Cylcles-A-Lot, the crazy bitch in the front row that’s actually enjoying herself, wears those padded shorts.

6) Standing up on the bike to relieve the pain in your, ahem, nether regions will help. It will also kill your legs. So throughout the class (did I mention that it’s 45 minutes long?) you must constantly decide, “Do I want my crotch to hurt or my legs to hurt?” I opted to switch back and forth…giving equal pain opportunity to both my crotch and legs. They appreciated it.

7) Ignore the clock. If you keep checking the time, that 45 minutes is going to seem like 45 HOURS.

8) Your legs will feel wobbly after you get off the bike. That’s normal. Perfect excuse to rest your sore butt in one of those nice cushy chairs they offer to change your shoes. If it takes an hour to change your shoes, don’t let them kick you out of the stuffed chair. Tell them you like to pace yourself when undoing your laces.

All of that being said, I am returning for next week’s class…they already have my money so I may as well. Afterwards the instructor asked how it went. I smiled and said, “well I’m still breathing.” She took that to be a good sign. I also told her that I sure as hell won’t feel guilty when I eat those cookies I made last night. A few of the crazy bitches even got a kick out of that one.

PS: I totally had McDonald’s for breakfast on the way home from class. You can take the girl to the gym…but you can’t make her eat healthy all the time. Now…where did I put those cookies?!

Since the day I found out I was going to be a big sister, I’ve taken the job very seriously. From changing your diapers to helping you with algebra homework…all of it has gone by so fast. And so I want to share some things that I will never forget:

1) The time you busted in your front teeth when you had an Oreo cookie in your mouth. Seriously, chocolate wafer, cream, and blood? Not a pretty sight.

2) I once convinced you that Santa was real by saying, “Come on. Do you think Mom and Dad can actually afford the stuff he buys us?” To which you replied, “You’re right. They couldn’t.”

3) When you were about 8 or so and you turned down riding bikes with your friends because you, “promised [your] sister [you'd] make cut out cookies today.”

4) Our tradition of sleeping in my bed the night before a big event…vacations…Christmases…Thanksgivings…Fourth of July. We’d lay there talking about what ever tomorrow’s big day was. What did we think Santa was bringing us? How early should we wake Mom and Dad? How we couldn’t wait to see the sand dunes of Michigan and go swimming in the pool. That was some serious fun…mostly because it was our thing only. Of course when I was 18 and you were 11 we were both a little leggy for my twin bed…then one of us (usually you) slept on the floor. It didn’t matter as long as we were together!

5) How strange it felt to ride as a passenger in a vehicle you were driving.

6) The nights I would wake you up to sleep in my room because it was storming outside. You didn’t seem to mind the storms…I hated them. I’d say, “if you’re scared and you want to sleep in my room, you can.” You’d sleepily reply that, no, you weren’t afraid. Somehow I’d con you into leaving your warm bed to sleep in my room…on the floor nonetheless. I can’t believe you put up with that!

7) The time you asked Mom what pubiter was because you overheard me saying I couldn’t wait until your voice changes when you hit puberty.

8) The nights you stayed with me while Larry was in jail. Thank you for that. It was more comfort than you know.

9) When you declared that you knew why I had a flannel bra…that it was to keep my hooters warm.

10) The less than pretty times after Nora was born…when you had to see my butt at the hospital and my boobs while I was trying to learn to nurse her. You totally didn’t mind that. You will make an awesome husband someday!

11) The many times you’d go with me…anywhere…just to ride along in the car. Like the time we went all the way to North Olmsted to get Mom’s Christmas gift…that turned out to be something she already had.

12) When you were little you looked up to me so much that if I said something was cool, then that was good enough. A shirt you didn’t like? If it got the big sister seal of approval then you’d wear it all day!

13) The nights that you told Mom you’d wait for me to do your homework with you because, “Courtney isn’t confusing like you are.” Man, that made me feel cool!

14) When you found out that we don’t have the same Dad and you said, “it doesn’t matter to me because you’re my sister no matter what.”

15) Your middle school project that you needed a condom for. I can’t even remember what class it was for…but I remember driving you to a gas station and sending you in the bathroom. I told you that it was your project, you could go in and get it. And you cackled like a hyena the whole way home because the idea of having a condom in your hands was just too much.

16) The time we took that “wounded” bird to Back to the Wild…only it recovered on the way. Remember that little bastard? He bit you and flapped around in my car. That wasn’t funny at the time…but it sure is now!

17) The morning we chased Nakita all over town because she was chasing a deer. That was some funny stuff! I’ve never seen you get dressed and out of the house so quickly. Hmm…I’ll have to remember that the next time I want to get you out of bed. I’ll just tell you the dog is chasing a deer.

18) The times you came to me for advice. About school. About Mom and Dad. About girls. About anything. I like that you knew you could trust me. I hope you know that I have always had your best interests in mind. I have always stood up for you. I have always tried to protect you.

I’m proud of you, Little Brother. You’re thoughtful, caring, loyal, trustworthy, and smart in ways I never will be. One day you’ll have kids of your own and I’ll be telling someone, “oh, my little brother…”. Every time I say that I stop and think. Because the little kid that used to call me Sissy is now my height…growing chin hair…and eighteen years old. Happy Birthday, Buddy!