So what happens when the instructor stinks?
A 45-minute class seems like a lifetime. The energy was non-existent. We still cycled for 45 minutes. We still did jumps and hills and recovery. My legs are sore today. But this is only because I became my own inner spinning instructor. I had to repeat inspirational mantras to myself. I was silently keeping track of the seconds for each repeat. I pushed myself to increase the resistance or pedal faster.
When I really wanted to SCREAM out:
"Yo Teach! See that thing next to you with handlebars & two wheels? It's your bike: Get on it! And when you tell me I'm "almost there", tell me how much time is left. Tell me what the next sequence will be. When you say we're doing something for 45 seconds, please acknowledge when that 45 seconds has ended, so we can come back down. Stop fussing with the music, which by the way SUCKS. Definitely stop gently patting the sweat from your nose in the mirror, because you haven't DONE anything to earn that sweat. Certainly not compared to those of us actually ON the bike, sweating like a beasts, soaking up our 2nd towel!"
Thankfully, this instructor only teaches once a week. I now know what night I will not be taking spinning class. [Hint for anyone interested in Astoria: TUESDAY @ 7:30pm]