Zum-Barre - Excuse me, ma'am. Did you get hit with a pipe? (July 23, 2015)

Continuing my Classpass extravaganza, I signed up for Zum-Barre.  The class was going to be a delightful combination of Zumba and Barre...or so I assume...I lasted 30 seconds.  Given the following description, I won't bother to mention where I attempted to take the class.

Things started off abnormal enough.  I drove to the studio, which was a new studio for me. It was in a building where you would find a dentist office or a podiatrist.  Small brick buildings in an office park.  That was fine.  I have seen workout studios in those settings.  Not sexy or exciting, but a space is a space, and I understand that rent is expensive.

I walked into the studio and another class was finishing up, so I hung out in the "lounge."  Lounge, lobby?  Waiting area?  Whatever.  It was a gem.  A lot of gyms sell gym clothes, and this one sold those, but it also sold hand made purses.  See one of the fine pursues to your left. And hand made jewelry.  There was also a mini-fridge in the lounge, but no indication there was anything inside the fridge for purchase.  It seemed to be used as random shelving, much like the empty cardboard box next to the fridge.

The class started, and I walked into the actual studio, which was surprisingly nice.  Again, see picture.

I start listening to two 17 years old ramble about smelling their workout mats while I put my stuff in a little storage cubby in the back of the room.  I lined up in front of the mirror to wait for class to start.  Unfortunately, then I looked at myself.  I had a massive welt on the side of my head.  Like golf ball large, and it was turning purple.  Alarmed, I grabbed my stuff and ran out of the studio and back into the weird lounge.  I walked up the to the girl who checked me into the class and asked "was this on my head when I walked in?"

The girl, who was an extremely disinterested late-teen or early 20-something stared at me looking rather dead behind the eyes for a second and goes, "ummmm, I dunno."  Frantically, I followed up with "what do you think it is?"  Again, "ummm, I dunno."

At that point, I decided that I needed to go to Urgent Care to investigate the situation because I feared an allergic reaction.  I told the front-desk girl that I would be leaving and told her to let the instructor know that it was nothing personal.

I hustled off to the closest Urgent Care clinic.  For a frame of reference, it was around 7 pm.  I scurried up to the Urgent Care...Closed.  Seriously, you closed two hours later than a doctor's office.  I need Urgent Care.  At that point, the bump was continuing to grow.  You can see the picture below.  That picture was my bump at about the time I left the class.  Gross, right.  Also, sorry for my friends who received text messages with the picture of this when I could not receive medical attention at the Urgent Care.  Sometimes, the best medical advice is randomly surveying your friends.

Okay, I needed to regroup.  A few doors down I notice a CVS with a Minute Clinic advertised.  Perfect!  Now, I obviously could have gone to an ER, but although I found the lump alarming, I did not find it ER worthy (and that was the consensus from the text message panel).  Anyhow, I scurried into CVS to ask whatever nurse was manning the minute clinic wtf was on my head.

Well, you know what also closes at 7 pm...the minute clinic in that CVS.  Seriously, what is going on?  What is the point of all of these after hours clinics if they close before dinner is over?

At that point, I was very frustrated and nervous because said lump was growing and very warm.  Desperate, I walked over to the pharmacist.

"Excuse me, but I believe I was bit by a bug," I politely say to the pharmacist.  "Do you have any recommendations?"

The pharmacist looks up at me and says, "did you fall down?"

A little thrown, I explain that I was in an exercise class and prior to the start of the class I noticed this in the mirror.  I reiterate that I believe that I was bitten by some type of bug.

"Did you get hit with a pipe?"  asks the pharmacist.

I just looked at her stunned at that point.  Admittedly, I did look like I was hit with a pipe, but I clearly stated what I had just been doing. More importantly, if I had been struck with a pipe, I probably would have gone to the emergency room, not be questioning my local pharmacist.  Also, where would I be getting in a fight that involved pipe beatings?  Am I in a Zumba gang?  Is there a lululemon fight club?  No, Miss Pharmacist, I was in a Zumba class...potentially with a bug.

She looked at me skeptically and then told me the aisle where I could find the Benadryl and recommended I put ice on my head.  She also said I should really go see someone if it got bigger...or if I fell down and forgot.  What? Just, what?

Luckily, I took a benadryl and held a bottle of water against my head and the lump began to go down.  Defeated, I got some frozen yogurt at the store next to the CVS and drove home.

I have not returned to Zum-Barre.  I do not know what caused my head injury, but I am too afraid to risk encountering whatever it was again, even if I want to see what kind of other goods they sell when they run out of purses.

Metabolic Resistance Training - Earl is a helper (July 18, 2015)

Continuing my Classpass experimentation, I signed up for Metobolic Resistence Training ("MRT") at a studio called Definitions.  Again, a workout studio conveniently located next to the previously mentioned awesome cupcake place, Baked & Wired.  

On a side note, I love all the different names for workouts.  You can take something as complex sounding as "Metabolic Resistance Training" and follow it up the next day with a class called "Pound." Anyhow, MRT is described as fun, personalized interval training.  I love interval training, and this workout wound up making the list of my top five favorite workouts; however, I must admit that I was incredibly skeptical when I started on my MRT adventure.

I walked up to the building where the MRT class was supposedly located.  It looked like an apartment building, or perhaps an office building.  I did not see any signs for the class.  As I approached the building, an older gentleman (maybe in his 50s) was standing outside the building milling around.  We made eye contact.

"Are you Kelly?" he asked.

Well, I was a little taken aback, but responded "Yes."

"So you're here for the class.  My name is Earl. Follow me."  I trotted into the building behind Earl.  It felt like half spy adventure and half blind date - so basically, awesome (on a later visit to the area, I did notice the small sign to the right).

Earl led me through the lobby of the building into a gym.  We entered the gym, which had some free weights and machines.  We hustled all the way to the back of the gym where there was an additional, walled-off workout room.  That small workout area is where MRT takes place.  The room, though small, houses all sorts of toys.  Water resistance row machines.  TRX ropes. Free weights.   I was pleasantly surprised at what they had to offer in such a small amount of space.  The other added bonus was that because the room was small, so was the class.

Like most interval training, the class is set up with a few different exercise stations.  Two people were paired up at each exercise station, and each station had two exercises. There were eight of us, and I was paired up with Earl.  Earl and I began the class on the rowing machines. We were supposed to row at a high intensity for 45 seconds, then we would break for 15 seconds, followed by do 45 seconds of kettle bell swings, and the return to the rowing machine to repeat the sequence.  We would do this three three times.  After three sets of each exercise in a station were completed, we received a one minute break while we moved to the next exercise station.

"Kelly, try to row faster." Earl starts giving me a lot of feedback and encouragement right off the bat on the rowing machine and the kettle bell swings.  Earl's encouragement was sweet, but very confusing.  Sir, we just met.  Also, do I not look like I'm trying to row my heart out? We move on to the next station.  It began with chest presses.  The instructor switched out my weights for a heavier set, which I really appreciated. I, like a lot of women, am timid when it comes to free weights. She was a better read on what I could lift than I was.  I really liked being pushed.

"You got this, Kelly!"
"Thanks, Earl."

We got to the next exercise station, which began with throwing medicine balls against the wall.  "Twist, Kelly.  Twist!"  Seriously, Earl.  At that point I did not know what was going on. In my head all I could think was what kind of partner are you, Earl? We have never met. There is no way I can provide you with such reciprocal encouragement while I'm trying to do what is turning out to be a very intense workout.

We take a water break.  One of the other participants in the class turns to Earl.  "What time are you teaching today?"  Light bulb. Earl isn't just some absurdly encouraging classmate...he the other instructor for the Definitions studio.  I was basically getting the benefit of personal training.  Everything suddenly made so much more sense.  We returned to the room to do side shuffles.  "Faster, Kelly!"  Sigh, I knew at that point my workout was going to continue to receive a lot of attention, which was going to be both awesome and exhausting.

The workout was great. I loved the set-up of stations and doing exercises for 45 seconds and maxing out reps.  There were lots of toys in the small space.  Limiting the number of people who could participate in the class also allowed for a lot of attention, which I believe would have been the case even if I hadn't had my own personal Earl.

I would recommend doing this workout.  I thought it was effective, and both Earl and the instructor leading the class were very nice.  Try not to be off put by the weird entrance, and if you end up in a class with Earl, try not to be annoyed.  He is the instructor.  You are receiving a huge benefit, not a bizarrely supportive, randomly assigned partner.  I have not had the chance to return to the class, but I definitely hope to make it back at some point. Maybe, I can actually take Earl's class.

Flywheel - British guy and space pants, sign me up (July 5, 2015)

Between the hippie hangouts and my cameo as a lumberjack, I had failed to try out any new traditional workouts in two weeks. Needing to rectify this, I returned to the Classpass smorgasbord and signed up for Flywheel.
In addition to a great workout, which I will address momentarily, the cycling studio itself is located in a cool building in Dupont Circle.  It looks like it used to be an old movie theater. There is a small marquee in the front, and the cycling room itself is stadium-style seating.

Also, there is apparently a massive picture of a woman on a stationary bike that takes up the entire left side of the building.  I didn't realize this until I did a Google images search.  I still didn't believe I could have missed that huge image, but sure enough, there she was last Saturday when I took the time to look on my way into class. Call me Ms. Observant.

Flywheel is different from Zengo and the Soulcycle because there is no "dancing," but there is still the standard cycling with a five(ish) minute portion of light weight lifting.  What makes the class stand out is a small computer screen attached to the side each bike that is measures the rider's torque (resistance) and RPMs (speed).  These measurements combine to provide the cyclist a total power measurement.  This is helpful, at least for me, because it is much easier for me to understand that I am supposed to be biking at 90 RPMs.  I'm much fuzzier when it comes to the typical class instruction of  make "another quarter turn on the knob," or the subjective instruction to "sprint." The Flywheel classes are either 45 or 60 minutes.  My first Flywheel class was a 60 minute class on Saturday with Alex R.

In addition to a swoon-worthy accent, Alex provides an excellent workout.  He is encouraging without being in your face.  Some instructors are very loud and think that constantly yelling cliche phrases is the way to go, and that might get some people excited, but I like Alex's normal volume and consistent, but not constant, encouragement.

Speaking of loud, I'm writing this in a Panera and there is a girl across the restaurant talking so loudly that I can actually give you a verbatim snippet of her current bellows: "So, like, anytime? I think I'm going to sign up for a workshop. Like, anytime in March. Like, a whole weekend." She also is currently feeling a lot of things...things I should not know as a stranger on the other side of a restaurant.  I digress, back to delightful Alex and the Flywheel workout. 

The coolest thing about Flywheel is the that you can track your individual statistics.  When you register for your class you create an account, and when you check into your class the computer on your bike is monitored for the duration of the class.  Those RPM, torque and power totals are all recorded.  Following class, you can sign in online and you are provided with the results of your workout, which includes your average RPM, max RPM, total distance and total calorie burn, as well as some other statistics.   Even though my stats never really change, I find it really fun to check them out after class.

An added bonus for competitive folks are the two television screens at the front of the cycling studio showing the cyclists' power rankings. When you sign up for your class, you can opt to have your score on the board in front of the room.  If you do so, your power score will be put up on the screen...provided you are within the top ten highest scores for your gender.

 I'm not particularly competitive, as least as it relates to cycling, so I will probably refrain from ever using that option, but it is a great incentive for those who are more competitive. And regardless of whether you sign up to go on the board or not, I find that I try hard to keep up with those on the board, which improves my overall workout.  The competitive aspect has also allowed me to convince my boyfriend to go with me once in a while.  Though he also doesn't opt to go on the board, he gets satisfaction from the stats and the scoring system

Also, I think the class is space themed? Or, they just went through a period of time where they sold a lot of space pants.  I can't quite tell, but I did buy awesome space workout pants there.  See the picture of the space pants below...and my huge feet. You're welcome.

After leaving the class, I texted a few of my friends with Classpass to suggest Flywheel and specifically Alex R.'s class.  Apparently, I was way behind the ball.  The universal response I received was basically, "duh, of course we already go to the British dreamboat who offers a great workout."  Well, my apologies.  I have now also gone to Coco at Flywheel, who was also wonderful, but I tend to stick to Alex.  

Try out the class. Your shoe rental is included in the price of your class.  Though shoe rentals only cost a few dollars at other studios, it is still nice to not have to worry about paying when you arrive.  If you provide your shoe size when you sign up for the class, Flywheel will have your shoes waiting in a little cubby under your bike number (it is quite adorable).

Recently, I heard a two girls in a Zengo class discussing how they weren't fans of Flywheel because they found the class intimidating.  You may feel that way, but you should at least give it a shot.  For what it is worth, I do not find it intimidating.  I find the ability to track my numbers fun and interesting, and I do not feel like anyone in the room is trying to intimidate me through their performance.

Oh, and if you go, wear space pants (if you own them).  If space isn't actually their theme, I would like to push for it.  Seriously, the pants are too great.