The plus appeared to be a washer, dryer, country time decorations and some physical therapy equipment. I should have anticipated the physical therapy aspect after my trusty Google Maps directed me to what looked like a medical park. You know those dark brick strip malls with lots of offices? They don't scream gym, but it is amazing how many workout studios are tucked away in those spaces. Not flashy, but probably economical.
I walked into the class and there were five girls who obviously all knew each other. They were having a loud and detailed discussion about one girl's love life. I was not invited into the conversation. Perhaps they require more vetting before they directly tell a new person all the intimate details of their relationships. That makes sense. I'm sure they cherish the privacy gained by discussing it loudly in a tiny room where strangers can hear everything.
The class started, and I looked around the room. There was a washer and a dry stacked behind some free-standing medical curtains. There were also some balls that looked like they were used for physical therapy (a physical therapist's office appeared to be attached), and a free-standing ballet barre, which we would eventually move to the middle of the room after the warm-up.
This place took the ballet aspect of barre more seriously than some other places. A lot of barre places integrate yoga, Pilates and ballet, but this place was ballet heavy. The instructor was using a lot of ballet terms. And she wasn't using terms like plié, or other terms I heard in barre classes. The words were totally foreign to me.
I struggled, and I don't say that as if I struggled in a subtle way. I didn't even know what I was supposed to be doing with my legs at times. I guess I also must have struggled with the terms "right" and "left." At one point, the instructor actually said, "well, since Kelly used the wrong leg, we are going to have to turn around the ballet barre in order for everyone to correctly work the next leg." Okay, way to call me out lady. Its not like I accidentally high kicked someone in the face (although that is probably because I cannot kick higher than my shins - it is actually embarrassing).
The class was a good workout, but I won't return. One, I live no where near the studio. Two, I guess I am getting spoiled with Classpass because I like pretty studios now, not ones that vaguely remind me of my elementary school's nurse's office. Three, I was obviously harshing everyones' barre buzz by not knowing my left leg from my right leg.
The instructor seemed alarmed at the end of class because she was running a few minutes over. She asked everyone if that was okay. That question was obviously directed at me as she knew the other five girls in the class very well (or so it appeared). I am totally fine with an instructor running a few minutes over in order for me to complete a workout. I understand that I am an adult with free will, and I am free to leave the class whenever I need to do so, even if they are not done instructing the class. Except in Bikram Yoga. I left one of those classes to pee once, and the instructor was livid. Anyhow, the Bootybarre instructor proceeded to tell the class how she read a horror story on Facebook about an instructor who went five minutes over on a 75 minute class and she got screamed at by her participants. There are a few things that I find suspicious about this story. One, a 75 minute class sounds like a yoga class. I can't imagine a yogi screaming, especially because their zen time ran over. Two, my instructor did not know the instructor that got screamed at. To me, it sounds like an urban legend that got passed along. Obviously, a fitness instructor urban legend. Participants going nuts on you in front of everyone for running a few minutes over on a class must be fitness instructor equivalent of Bloody Mary.
More importantly, please let me know if you've ever been to Erotic Witchcraft class because I am dying of curiosity.
The flamingos were added because flamingos are neat to look at, pictures of them were in my cell phone, and I don't have any other pictures of the Bootybarre studio. The end.
