My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding (8 page)

I sit down onto a stationary bicycle. The seat is a bit low, but Donna has already begun. She punches some buttons on the instructor’s bike panel and some really pumping music fills our corner of the gym.

“All right everyone. Let’s get fit!” Donna claps her hands all the way over her head to the beat of the music. No one else copies her, so I don’t either. We do, however, start rotating our pedal’s like Donna has.

Oops. I forgot to adjust the tension settings before I hopped onto my bike. I have no idea how to turn the pressure down on the panel over the handlebars either. It’s a good thing Donna is starting out at a slow pace, because I’m finding this cycling business to be like an uphill hike already. When beads of sweat prematurely pop out on my forehead, I’m desperate to locate the tension adjustment button.

I start pushing the minus sign on my handlebar panel. I figure if I just avoid pressing any plus symbols I’ll be okay.

And that’s worked. The tension in my bike’s pedals has decreased. I don’t want anyone to know that I’ve turned the tension all the way off though, so I pump my legs slowly, acting like I’ve just turned the tension up.

Clap, pump. Clap and pump.

Donna shouts out motivating instructions. I’m really getting into the easy-going pace of the cycle class. I really don’t know why they call it a shred lesson. I’m actually having fun at this and it’s even easier going than Zumba Zumba!

“All right everyone,” Donna says for the umpteenth time. “That’s it for the warm up. Let’s get ready to shred! And three… two… one.”

Oh fuck. I’m in trouble now.

Without warning all the cyclists lean into their handlebars, even Donna does. Immediately the class members double, then triple their pedal pumping speed. It’s like watching berserk maniacs! If these bikes weren’t stationary they’d all be cycling at one hundred miles per hour! As I continue to stare and pedal relatively slowly in comparison, the woman next to me is going red in the face as she grits her teeth.

Shit. I guess I’d better get with it.

Baring down on the handlebars of my bike I start pumping my legs hard. Faster and faster I go until my feet are spinning the pedals faster than the wheel chain can go. A clicking sound emanates from my cycle so everyone’s going to know I’ve set my bike to zero tension.

Quickly, I press the plus sign on the control panel once. Ooohh, my legs are really starting to burn now.

“And hold!”

Thankfully, Donna ends the strenuous pace. She sits up and everyone —including a very grateful me— follows suit. The pace goes back to a slow pumping of bike pedals.

Just when I’ve managed to catch my breath, Donna shouts and everyone leans forward again.

Oh no. I can’t do this! Now I truly know why they call this a shred class! If I keep this up my leg muscles really will shred themselves into bits and fall completely off my body!

There’s nothing else for it. I don’t want to look like a slacker who can’t keep up. I lean forward again and start pumping the pedals as hard as I dare. I even grit my teeth in a grimacing smile. I have to, this is crazy difficult!

“Come on push!” Donna screeches as though we’re all giving birth, or something. “Shred your bike! Show no mercy!”

What the fuck? How about you show me some mercy? You stark raving mad b—

My internal cursing of the cycle instructor are abruptly halted when she finally relents. But it’s only a brief reprise before we’re all off and pedalling like lunatics once again.

This goes on for the next twenty minutes and by the time we’ve finally reached cool-down mode, I’m beyond spent.

I try not to show it though. Everyone has sat fully upright on their bikes and the pedalling pace is slow. They’ve all grabbed towels from their handlebars and begin wiping off rivers of sweat.

Damn. I really should have thought to take my towel out of my gym bag first. Now I just have to sit here with sweat pouring into my eyes as it drips down off my drenched scalp. Even though the warm-down pedalling pace is slow, I’m still sweating like a pig. I can hardly breathe and I’m thanking myself for at least having the good sense not to wear an inappropriately small sized sports bra right now. There won’t be any false alarm heart-attacks from me tonight!

Suddenly, everyone starts hopping off their bikes.

What? That’s it for the cool-down? Well I for one am definitely not warmed-down in the least. My heart is still banging like a row of firecrackers inside my chest. I scoot off my bike seat quickly though, and I try my hardest to not look like I’m gasping for air. If I were on my own I’d definitely be huffing and puffing in great gulps right now. I don’t want anyone to think I’m a wuss though, so I grab my gym bag and head out of the equipment area as quickly as my shredded legs will allow.

My footsteps are a bit wobbly, but over all I think I’ll be okay.

“So how was the class?” Kirsten stops me in the wide corridor. I can see through the glass front wall of her classroom and I’m guessing she just came away from instructing a quick Zumba dance.

“It wasn’t that bad actually.” I don’t think I’m lying through my teeth as I reply to Kirsten. “I feel quite pumped really.” This is true too. I feel extremely pumped and I know all my hard work is going to pay off. “I’ll probably lose a stone by tomorrow morning!”

Kirsten smiles at me. It seems I’ve finally managed to catch my breathe. “I hope this doesn’t mean you’ll be doing the shred class instead of coming to my Zumba now.” Her smile fades. “Seriously, Emily, Stevie is all fixed up!”

“Oh I don’t know, Kirsten. We’ll see.” And I leave it at that as I leave the gym. When I hop into my car I’m still feeling pretty good. I drive home and hop straight into the shower. After drying off and padding barefoot into the carpeted bedroom, I blow dry my hair at my vanity table, then slip quietly into bed next to a dozing Callum.

Usually I don’t mind if he wakes as it usually means we’ll make rumpy-pumpy-time. I’ve had quite enough leggy-pumpy-time already at the gym though, so I’m okay with missing out on more pumpy-wumpy anything for the rest of the night.

Chapter 6

Pain is me. That is all I am. Suffering is all I know.

“Argh, ohhh.” I awake nearly screaming. “My legs!”

“Over did it last night at the gym, did you?” Callum rolls over, smacks my bare bum and hops out of bed.

“Cal!” I rage at him. “That bloody hurt!”

“So have your revenge.” He flexes his fuzzy arse at me one butt cheek at a time. I’m in no mood for his shenanigans though and when I fail to give him a playful slap, he turns so that I’m now having to look directly up at his morning glory. “You’re really suffering, my darling?” Finally, he leans forward and kisses my forehead. “I’ll get you some paracetamol.”

And with that he whisks himself out of the bedroom.

The time it takes him to bring back a glass of water and painkillers seems like ages. I stare out the glass doors that lead out to the first floor balcony. The sky is clear, so it’s probably going to be a lovely sunshiny day. And it’s definitely going to be a blue sky day that I’m going to miss. There is absolutely no way I can get out of bed when I’m in this much pain.

“Here you go, my love.” Callum hands me a glass of water and two pills. Somehow, I manage to swallow them while lying on my side. “Wow,” my fiancé’s eyes go wide. “That was impressive.”

“What was?” I moan.

“Taking medicine while lying down, of course.” He sits on the edge of the bed and pushes my blonde hair back. “Another day off work for you today then.”

Finally, his words make me feel something other the agony that is my lower extremities. My bottom lip protrudes outwards and I frown. Damn Callum and his considerable nature. His sympathy always makes me feel worse.

“I really did overdo it at the gym last night.” My voice comes out very wobbly and if I don’t stop this self-pity-party right now I’m going to burst into tears like a baby. “I can’t leave the cafe to Anika and Fiona again though.”

“They’ll be fine, honey.” Callum kisses me on the forehead to avoid my morning breath. “Now get some rest and I’ll phone the cafe for you.”

I take his advice, sort of. I’m staying in bed but I’m not getting any rest. If the painkillers I took don’t kick in soon I’m never going to be able to sleep. And sleep is what I definitely need right now if my shredded leg muscles are ever going to heal.

Callum goes to work and I’m left staring out the window doors once again.

It’s only now that I realise I need to go for a wee. Due to indescribably painful leg trauma, I must have been unable to notice the pressure in my bladder until now that it’s positively bursting.

With many moans and groans I sit up. Latching my hands onto the top of the headboard, I pull myself upwards. Daring to move a muscle I shift one of my legs ever so slightly.

“Oohhh!” Ouch, that hurt.

I’m now in a very awkward position so I steel myself and push off the headboard.

“Eeeeee!” I wince in agony as the pain in my legs increases tenfold. I’m not going to lay back down though, if I do I’ll wet the bed.

Gritting my teeth harder than the woman at the gym did last night, I slide one sore leg out of bed. My foot hits the carpeted floor with a thunk, sending shockwaves of pain up through my leg as though it’s made of jelly.

Slowly, but agonizingly, I stand and creep towards the en-suite bathroom. Every step I take is sheer torture on my legs. It feels like I’ve done a lot more damage than just shredding the hell out of my muscles. I just know I must have torn some ligaments beneath my skin somewhere!

Gasping, I take a final step and cling to the bathroom doorframe. Only a few more steps and I’ll make it to the toilet. I can do this! I have to do this! I will not stand here and pee all down my own legs, even if I have heard that peeing in the shower is a terrific muscle relaxer!

With the last of my resolve I make it to the toilet and relieve my bladder of its liquid pressure. I end up going for such a hard wee that it hits the inner bowl and sounds like someone’s hosing down and elephant.

After wiping thoroughly I bend forward and tip myself off the toilet seat. I crawl back towards the bed and climb painfully onto the mattress. As I slide underneath the duvet I think the painkillers are finally starting to kick in. The pain in my legs subsides enough to allow me some sleep. As I doze off I can’t help wishing I’d just stayed in Kirsten’s Zumba class. At this point in my painful existence I’d welcome electrocution rather than the agony that’s caused from cycle shredding.

***

When I wake for the second time in the same day, it’s due to the fact that the painkillers have worn off. My legs are once again in full blown agony.

I’m tempted to ring up Callum and tell him to come home immediately so that he can take care of me. Actually, I’m tempted to saw my own legs off if it means relief from this burning pain!

The rest of my day goes on like this. I’m one big ball of suffering. I don’t dare move. Maybe this is what I deserve. This is what I get for thinking that I could just do a shred gym class randomly like that. Honestly! I think the universe is against me! Every time I try to do something in attempts at losing weight, it blows up in my face. Or in this case, blown up in my legs.

Finally, Callum comes home to find me a gasping heap of a messy woman. “Paracetamol now!” Is the first thing I shout at him as he enters the bedroom.

“Did you start your period while I was away?” Laughing, Callum heads back out of the room.

“How can you laugh at my pain?” I grumble at him when he returns. Swiping the two pills out of his hand I swallow them sideways again.

Cough!

The medicine is stuck in my chest!

“Damn it, Em,” Callum grabs the glass of water off the nightstand. “At least have some water with those pills.”

Banging my chest with a fist I’m trying to get the medicine to go down my oesophagus. I’m determined to never sit up again if it means my legs won’t scream with pain!

“Oh fuck it.” I’m going to have to drink some water.

Callum kneels and helps me to sit up at least at a tolerable angle. I gulp down the contents of the entire glass that my fiancé tips to my lips. Crashing back down onto my pillow I sigh with momentary relief.

“I’m calling the GP.”