I had the day off of work today for Presidents’ Day, so I figured tonight was the perfect opportunity for me to finally check out one of these barre classes that are popping up all over the place (and the Living Social impulse buy for three classes at Barre Code in Del Ray, which I purchased way back in November, is due to expire in two weeks and I didn’t want it to go to waste). Being me, naturally, I decided to take the class this in the evening … having already spent a little over two hours in the gym this morning.
On that note, sidebar: yes, perhaps I should have paid more heed to the conversation I had with my friend Matt this morning at the gym, when he joked I should be saving up my strength for tonight’s class instead of fitting in another workout. Because he was right.
Here’s the thing: I pride myself on being a bit of a badass. My former trainer used to call me “The Champ.” I make a lot of my workouts borderline crazy sometimes simply because I can. And I take it out on my classes, too – I consider “you’re the hardest instructor” the best compliment. That said …
Barre is freaking hard.
I’ll admit to not totally knowing what to expect, but I went in thinking, I’m a Pilates instructor, I’m highly conditioned, I danced for years (though, yes, the last time I took a class I was a freshman in college), how tough could some ballet-inspired workout be? Turns out, pretty dang hard. I’m fairly confident that if I don’t have to roll out of bed tomorrow, sitting and standing will probably be a challenge. Cause holy butt and quads (at least I still have strong abs and all that running hasn’t completely killed my flexibility – though those splits were a little more challenging than they were in my teens and 20s…).
Most of the class was based on small, controlled movements or contractions. Some of them were similar to many other exercises I’ve seen in Pilates, with just minor adjustments. A couple of the exercises, though, got me thinking I must have spent too much time around my brothers throughout my lifetime, because after what can only be explained as a lot of pelvic thrusts, I had to remind myself to get out of the gutter and focus on what I was doing (it’s totally Eric and Ian’s faults – just ask them, almost everything I say manages to be somehow twisted around, leading to a smirk and “too easy.”)
Would I do it again? Absolutely. I love anything that challenges me, and the fact that my form could still use a lot of work definitely gives me a reason to want to give it another try. I’m sure, like any exercise, all it takes is a little time and direction to get it just right.
But we’ll see how much my body hates me tomorrow …