Today I met my friend/babysitter/chicken sittter numero uno/favorite pro triathlete, Maddie for a TRX class at Colorado Athletic Club, which is fancy and brand new, complete with 2 salinated pools, as opposed to Flatirons, where I have a membership, which is near my house, but is desperately in need of a facelift and more space in the womens locker room. I had a guest pass that was burning a hole in my pocket and I wanted to get more familiar with exercises you can do with the TRX.
The class was 45 minutes, of which I spent probably about five minutes futzing with the stirrups, trying to get my feet in and getting my body turned around to face the right direction for floor exercises. I would estimate another five minutes was dedicated to me lying on my back not doing anything in between intervals of hamstring/core work, just because I simply could not do it. Not to be all whiny like “Poor me, I’m out of shape, I just had a baby!” but I did just have a baby and as a result my core strength is pretty much non-existent. And my hamstrings were already burning from the 5k on Sunday. I devoted approximately three minutes to making “Oh my god, just kill me now!” and “What are we supposed to be doing??” faces at Maddie. I would say I allocated a solid minute to observing all the fake breasts in the class (there were a lot). That left me with about 31 minutes of actual working out. Oh, and it took me about 12 minutes each way to get there and back… Which begs the question, was it worth my time?
Well, I also got an uninterrupted period of about 20 minutes in which I showered, lotioned, blow dried, beautified, and dressed. On the way out, I got a complimentary cup of coffee. So, yeah, it was definitely worth it.