Stripper pole?

So it’s getting to be about that time when less is more when it comes to clothing and more time is spent in swim attire than in tights. Ah, summer. Trust, I am counting down to the minute that I can sleep in until 8 and frolic all day, not to return to madison middle school and all these rude/smelly eighth graders for a couple months.

Now being a 20-something girl I of course want to be summer ready, so I decided to mix it up a bit in the fitness department and try Pure Barre. Inital reactions from the males in my life have included – “What kind of bar is this?” and “Stripper pole class?” and even an encouraging, “The pole can be tough.” I have to admit, after taking out a small loan to pay for the 30 day unlimited package and special socks ($13 to be exact), I was pretty nervous to actually attend a class. Afterall, I had to buy special socks just to step in the studio.

So yesterday I went into the class with determination to dominate – I believe my exact wording was “Let’s rock this B” – so I was feeling pretty good for the first 8 minutes or so during warm-ups and arms. I was keeping up with Kat Von D in front, my toes were pointed as they should be, and I was one with the small ball that I had to keep placed tightly between my inner thighs. Yes, I said inner thighs, and yes, I counted it a major accomplishment that I didn’t let that sucker loose at all during class one! Next thing I knew it was time to do leg and bun work on the barre. Now I was initially excited to reconnect with my childhood ballerina self, sans pink tutu, but I quickly changed my tune when I could no longer feel anything other than every muscle in my body shaking from fatigue. After some stretches one could only relate to tantric sex, the class was over. I was exhausted.

Today I can barely feel my arms and have suddenly become acutely aware of every back muscle I possess. I kind of love it. A love/hate relationship this may be, pure barre and I. It’s 30 days – anything can happen.

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