I love a countdown.

I don’t love sweating.

Tonight’s class at Equinox was called “Stacked!” I’m usually critical of anything that utilizes an exclamation mark. The description outlined a “high density” class that uses sandbells, plyometrics and building sequences.

I don’t recall much from biology, but I’m nearly certain “density” is not an accurate adjective to describe a fitness class. The bigger issue was figuring out what a sandbell was. Is this a music class? Will my lifelong dream of playing in a bells-only ensemble finally come to fruition?

Any class that uses a weight I’ve never heard of promises to be worthwhile. And the class did not disappoint, aside from not including bells of sand and subsequently leaving my dream unrealized.

I followed the throng of people into the studio and grabbed a sandbell. If you were curious, sandbells are neoprene sacks filled with sand. Like kettlebells, they come in several different weights. I hid in the back row so I could watch the instructor and others get their stack on.

The instructor wrote sequences on the mirror in the front of the studio. She turned on the music and it was go time. She was not dense, but she was very high energy. Each exercise was demoed, then she counted us down. 5…4…3…2…1. Then she stacked another exercise onto the previous until there was a set of 5.

The first stack was:
Squat tosses
A speed skater-esque move
Plank/knee to chest
Rainbow (throw sandbell on the ground)

Each exercise was 30 seconds. She would count off the last 7 seconds and shout what was next. Once the stack was assembled, we did all 5 with little to no break in between. That stack took about 12 minutes and I started to sweat out the sugar and sprinkles from the first cupcake I ate today.

There was a minute break for water. I took that break to catch my breath. The second half of the class was a different stack targeting core and back. Throwing a sand bag is oddly therapeutic. Toward the end I started losing steam and sugar to burn off. My workouts are like the train in Back to the Future. I burn off burritos or sugar instead of coal.

The instructor apologized for making a mistake calling out a sequence and shared that she had a 4-month old child at home. Kudos to her for being so fit after birthing a child. I usually go into deep hibernation after eating at chipotle or pass out at my desk after lunch.

“Go home and eat something healthy,” she advised as she ended the class.

I showered, power walked to the train station, ambled down the stairs like an elephant who discovered they have knees, then purchased this:
It’ll be gone in 5…4…3…2…1.


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