Pure Barre, Pure Hell

I consider myself to be "athletic." I did a decade of ballet, tap and jazz, followed by another decade and a half of gymnastics and cheerleading. So when it comes to trying new exercise classes, I usually feel very confident.

After a recent Groupon for Pure Barre classes, my BFF Hauren Luckabee* and I decided to try our first class tonight.

I showed up 20 minutes early and patted myself on the back for being so prepared, until I realized I had forgotten socks! Not to worry, they sell socks there...for SIXTEEN DOLLARS. Who has heard of a $16 pair of socks? Seriously. If I am paying that much for socks they'd better give me a foot massage or do my workout for me.

Ridiculously expensive new socks in hand, I made my way into the Barre room to prepare for class to start. After putting on my new socks, I realize that they don't just say "Pure Barre" on the bottom. Across the toe area of both socks in big bold letters they say "Bride To Be."

Is this my real life? Like at age 26 I don't already feel judged for not being married, but now even my SOCKS are judging me and pointing out the fact that I'm single. RUDE. Luckily, class began before anyone had a chance to ask me about my fiance or pending wedding plans.

Our teacher was very sweet, and very perky. She kept saying phrases like "You can do it!" and "Just ten more on this side, count with me!" and "Feel it getting tigher!" My arse muscles were on FIRE. I was shaking so badly it was embarrasing. I could not wait for this torture to be over. Then our teacher said, "Looking great guys! We are almost halfway through the warm up."

Is this some kind of horrible joke? Half way through the warm up? KILL ME NOW. Immediately I began plotting different ways to get out of class, but I didn't want to look like a total wimp. So obviously I did the only practical thing and started praying for an earthquake or a power outage.

Alas, there was no major electrical event. Class continued and the teacher kept coming over and correcting my form. To which I would simply roll my eyes. The music was too loud, or I would have just told her, "Look, I'm aware my form is incorrect. I'm just phoning this workout in okay? All I want to do is live through the next 60 minutes so I can crawl out of here with some tiny shred of dignity."

With each new exercise Hauren Luckabee and I would look at each other in despair. We were the only newbies in a class of women who do Pure Barre 5 times a week. To add insult to injury, one entire wall of the classroom is a giant mirror. So you can watch yourself struggle...and jiggle.

Needless to say, I was SO HAPPY when the teacher finally told us to give ourselves a round of applause. It was time to leave! I didn't clap, but I did crawl to the front door, remove my Bride to Be socks, and teeter out to my car on sore, wobbly legs.

I assure you that Pure Barre is all it is cracked up to be. Of course if you do it 5 times a week you will look like Gwyneth Paltrow. That said, I will never be going back. Ever. All I have to show for my first class is a $16 pair of socks I can't wear until I get engaged someday, a sore arse and a badly bruised ego. Workout fail.


*Name has been changed to protect privacy