I begin at lululemon because I have a deep concern for what perfect strangers think and don’t want them to arrive at the correct conclusion that this is my first rodeo.
I discover that lululemon’s top size is 12. I am a solid 14, but I take the 12s because I want to be like all the cool kids.
I arrive early at Lagree YYC’s Britannia Crossing location super early because:
- They have great muffins at Café Artigiano, and I need one last hurrah before I become the poster girl for healthy living.
- I need to purchase the mandatory grip sox that will forestall calamity as I become one with the Megaformer.
Fortunately, the Toe Sox sold by Lagree YYC come in a wide range of sizes. The open-toed styles are all the rage for those who can actually see their own feet. Mine are a little rough because I spent my pedicure money on exercise clothes that don’t fit. I opt for a full-toed snazzy pop of Lagree purple to lessen the funereal severity of my all-black sausage casing.
By now, classmates of all sizes, shapes and fitness levels have begun filing in. Some could walk the fitness catwalk. Others are wearing sweats and concert t-shirts. I feel fleetingly superior; this may be a delusion caused, in part, because my clothing is restricting oxygen to my brain. Or it could just be that I am shallow.
Len shows me to the unisex (oh, brave new world!) dressing room where I stash my stuff in a hotel-style locker. Cellphones are verboten in the studio. Someone else will surely call the paramedics and my next of kin if necessary.
The Megaformer
First impression: A high-tech version of a medieval torture device.
Second Impression: Didn’t I see this equipment on the Forever episode with the dominatrix story line?
Third Impression: I didn’t kiss my long-suffering husband goodbye when I left the house this morning. What if I never see him again?
Kim will not let me die. This is the Lagree – Full Body – Light class, designed for folks who, for a variety of reasons, need a gentle start.
The exercises are performed slowly, stimulating slow-twitch muscle fibres which, properly engaged, burn fat and give a long, lean look. I’m all in because of the science. And I want to look like Kim.
She asks whether anyone has issues she should be aware of before the class begins. The world isn’t ready, so I remain mute. Next is an overview of the Megaformer: how to change the weights to provide
for increased or decreased resistance; how to control the platform’s gliding carriage for a low-impact yet thorough workout; how to use all those sexy handles and pulleys.
The rest is a bit of a blur: A series of exercises ranging in length from 30 seconds to 2 minutes, working each muscle group to the point of fatigue. My muscles literally shake . . . a foreign but strangely pleasant sensation.
Because it is a light class, the workout – though still intense – is do-able, allowing for slower transitions between exercises. That is a good thing because it will take me a few classes (perfectly normal says Kim) to feel comfortable with everything the Megaformer does . . . and to correctly distinguish my left foot from my right hand nine times out of 10.
How did it Feel?
Thirty seconds later . . .
I walk into the dressing room enjoying a long-forgotten sensation: how great it feels to sweat.
Five minutes later . . .
I crave a shower more than a second muffin from Artigiano so I walk on by. This is an exciting breakthrough – I can still walk!
One hour later . . .
Maybe it’s my imagination, but I feel like my chest has opened up a lot and I am breathing more deeply. I am already a pectoral superstar.
That evening . . .
I’m feeling a little stiff in the ribs, honey . . . please pass the Motrin.
Next day . . .
It hurts when I laugh. In a good way. I sign up for tomorrow’s Light class.
Next Time: A Nutritionist’s Valiant Effort to Save me from Myself