I joked to The Hubs that I was “going to the bar tomorrow at 630am.” He looked at me with concern for a second, only then to ask, “What bar is open at 630am HERE?” He had a point. There are no bars open at 630am in the area of rural NH where we live. I wasn’t go to drown my sorrows in booze, I was going to a barre workout class.
I am a regular attendee at inferno hot pilates at my Bikram yoga studio, so barre shouldn’t have felt too far out of my comfort zone. It was at a studio I had never been to, but a friend had a free pass for me if I went with her, so I figured, “why the hell not?”
Well, it was really freaking hard. Like REALLY HARD. Who would have thought that tiny little movements would burn so damn much? Now I have an even greater respect for the athletes and artists who call themselves a ballerinas. I mean, holy shit, my legs were jello by the end of class. When I had to do the stairs at work later in the day, it was torturous.
We did ab moves, leg moves, arm moves, booty moves. Some at the barre, some not. Some with a squishy ball behind our backs or between our knees, some not. None of the movements were big, they were all tiny, torturous pulses that burned every muscle in my body. I hated it while I was doing it, but I loved it when we were done.
What I really liked about it was the realization I had when I was walking out of the studio after with my friend: I didn’t even hesitate to say yes to going when she invited me. Five years ago I probably wouldn’t have done it. I would have been too anxious, too consumed with What Ifs to get myself to the studio. I was still out of my comfort zone- I know NOTHING about barre workouts- so I didn’t really know what I had agreed to.
Will I go back? Probably. I have a regular pass at two studios already, so I don’t see myself plunking down the cash to get a regular pass at another studio, but I would go back again to take barre. It was a great low-impact workout and I felt the burn!