This Is What Happened When I Attempted A New Workout

Nov 21, 2014
When one is given the opportunity to try a new exercise class they should take it, and take it I did. I trekked across town to take a class at The Bari Studio known for being New York City's best hybrid workout infusing three core elements: sensory cardio, trampoline cardio, and muscle sculpting. (They have a studio they just opened in Newport Beach). I rate exercise classes by the following criteria: 1. My ability to complete the class without leakage. (Three children have made their way out of my lady cavity). 2. Good music. And by good music I mean Kool & The Gang, Cobra Starship, and the theme song to the Greatest American Hero. 3. An instructor that isn't wearing a thong leotard. 4. Leaving feeling like I have spent the last 55 minutes accomplishing what can't be done with a VHS tape in the privacy of my own basement. I consider myself a fit person. I work out 7 days a week. I pack running sneakers in my vacation luggage. I don't like coffee and I have small children that wake up very early. If it were not for exercise I'd need masking tape to keep my eyelids open in the middle of the day. So I need something that will keep me breathing hard enough that I won't regret the brownie I want to make out with later or bored enough that I am distracted by the last episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians. 10:15: I run into a mom from the preschool. She's happy to see me, which is a good sign. If she just finished a class and doesn't want to punch someone in the face then this might end well. The owner just introduced herself. She went to college in Philadelphia, looks like my friend Shira, and is making fun of her vagina. She gets me. 10:25: The room is full of ropes dangling from the ceiling with low purple lighting. Immediate concern this was actually an invitation to a swingers party. The instructor asks me if I would like to use an ultrasound gel to have a contraption figure out my exact body weight mass. I feel like I've just been asked my social security number. I decline. Instead she fixes a heart rate monitor around my chest so that I know just how hard I am working in this chamber of torture. BARI1   10:40: The music is great and I am trying to match the instructor's moves but I am over thinking it because I have a hard time doing the electric slide at weddings. My motivation is pretending I am Candace Cameron Bure in last year's season of Dancing With The Stars, except instead of a skating outfit I am wearing Lulemon pants and a soccer t-shirt. 10:55: We are now jumping on trampolines and my bladder has remained in tact. My breasts have remained contained in my sports bra, so I am pleased with my purchase from the Nike store last month. 11:05: The ropes, in turns out, are for toning my arms. I am ignoring the discomfort because I am too busy staring at my mini bat wings. I need to use the baby as a human weight more often. 11:20: I am in full plank position and she's just asked me to kick my leg to the side and then behind. Sweat is pouring off my face and my hands are sliding on the mat. This must be what Christina Aguilera feels like on stage. 11:30: Stretching. I have some concerns I smell like a beast. I guess I should reconsider stopping at Whole Foods on the way home. Later that evening: I ask my husband to roll me sideways on the bed so I can recharge my cell phone. I feel good. I am a Bari believer, especially if I can take these dance moves on the show if I am ever invited to another wedding. BARI2 BARI3  
Filed Under: Kate's Life