Unspoken Parts

This is probably not something I should be posting on the world wide web, where my future employers may find it. Considering I am currently unemployed and looking for a new job, it really isn't a good idea. But whatever.

Today I am going to talk about that area between my legs, plus my inner thighs. WHOA, there Joelle, SLOW DOWN. We don't know you that well. You're about to. I am here to tell you that my upper, upper, inner thighs and crotchal region are extremely sore, due to all of the BIKE RIDING I have been doing at the gym. You see, I convinced my new roommate, Mandy (more on her another time), to join my gym. That way I have someone to go with. I introduced her to kickboxing, and she introduced me to cycling. Twice. Two days in a row. I think I pedaled like 38 miles or something ridiculous. At the end of the class, all I could do was look down at my odometer and think about how far away from this torturous cycling instructor I could have gone.

At first I was all, No big deal. I can ride a bike. No training wheels necessary, because it's stationary. Also, I'd be able to ride with no hands, which is something I always wanted to do as a child but typically ended up in the bushes for trying. I was thinking, I will be able to sit down. How is it even exercise if you are sitting?

Somewhere Lance Armstrong just rolled his eyes.

I was so, so very wrong. Usually I have to pee after my weight lifting class because I drink so much water, but I didn't have to empty my bladder at all after the Group Ride class because I sweated it all out. It was majorly disgusting. We're talking so much drippage that my neck should have rain gutters installed. I couldn't stop though, because I didn't want to be the only one in the class pedaling 35 RPMs. So even though I did not get my gears or RPMs up nearly as high as everyone else, I did the best that I could. And that's all a mother could ever ask for.

After the hour of cycling, Mandy I went to kickboxing, because we are insane and because I love kickboxing. My legs felt like jelly right after dismounting the bike, and I thought I was going to fall over, but I felt better after ten minutes. Then I had to go kick some ass for 50 more minutes. That was Wednesday evening.

On Thursday evening I went to cycling class again with Mandy. I thought I would be totally fine, because I wasn't even sore from yesterday's activities. But then I got on the bike. As soon as I sat down with that un-padded plastic seat between my legs, I felt the burn. My first thought was oh my god, how do the men do this? Males, I give you props if you have ever ridden a bike two days or more in a row. You must have balls of steel.

I pedaled through all the torture, panting and groaning and nearly falling off my bike. Meanwhile, the Barbie sized instructor is up there laughing and making jokes. I swear my right calf is the same size as her upper thigh. I know it is. If she can do this with just skin and bone, surely I can do this with my massive thigh muscles. I'm not even exaggerating, I've got thighs like a body builder; minus my flab.

When I was younger, I was told I had the Perfect Body for a Gymnast, because I'm short, compact, and have kangaroo thighs. I did gymnastics off and on for four years. When I say off and on, I really mean the change was as quick as using a light switch. Like, I was out every other month, due to the Knee That Is Not Perfect for a Gymnast. I'm not going to lie to you, I was really bad a gymnastics. I can't even do a back flip. I blame it on my kneecaps and genetics.

Back to the pain. I am very happy that I will not be cycling for at least four days. I'm so sore that I thought about icing it, but the prospect of a frozen crotch was in no way appealing. Sorry if you actually read this entire post. I hope you are not scarred.