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As I won’t be getting any heart-shaped candy from an actual Valentine this year, I’ve decided to show my body some love and get my heart racing in a spin class. It might not be everyone’s idea of a good time but it sure beats watching The Notebook by myself with a packet of Tim Tams and a box of tissues, wallowing in my own self pity (and adding countless calories to my weekly intake). Plus, the spin instructor is a man, so when you think about it, it’s kind of like a date. Kind of.
Kind of.
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