Liz Gets Healthy, Volume III: HauteBarre

"Barre class? Like...lawyer bar?"

"No."

"Like bartending bar?"

"No...like ballet barre."

I kid you not, I've had this conversation like three times in the past 24 hours. Friends, I signed up for barre classes. 

Barre is one of those trendy new workouts that apparently isn't actually new--it was founded on the West Coast (of course) in the early 90's, but is just now hitting Minnesota. Studios have popped up all over the Metro area, and after doing a lot of reading about the workout and the amazing benefits of the method, I bit the bullet and committed to a 30-day unlimited-class trial with Haute Barre, a studio in the West End. 

The basic principle of barre is to fuse yoga, ballet, stretching and "isometric" (small, static) movements into a workout designed to target female problem areas...the butt, thighs, abs and arms. Given that these are the areas I am most self-conscious about, this sounded ideal. Add to that the fact that barre has a reputation for being a low-impact, gentle-on-the-joints workout, and I was even more intrigued. Finally, throw in some majorly inspiring photos of the results (amazing lean, toned ballerina-esque bodies) and I was sold. 

My friend Alyssa and I ventured out on Sunday morning for our first class feeling more than a little apprehensive. Every review I had read online touted the workouts as being absolutely physically punishing and intense...and given my current state of fitness (which is to say, not fit in any sense of the word) I wasn't feeling too confident about my ability to even make it through the workout. Thank god for the buddy system! It made it a lot less intimidating. 

We started with high knees marching in place...right up this former band nerd's alley...and added in tons of arm work. About five minutes in, I had already broken into a sweat and could feel muscles I've never known how to work screaming. It was intense. The instructor, Amber, was a mother of two and had, I shit you not, the most bangin' body I've ever seen...so she could have told me to dangle upside down from a bridge and I probably would have tried it. 

After warmup came thighs, and excessive use of the barre. Second position? We hit it. Plies, tiny squats, and constant repetition of the phrases "Get your heels an inch higher, your hips an inch lower" soon had my entire lower body visibly shaking (the goal of the workouts). Halfway through, I was biting my lower lip, raising my eyes heavenward, and praying to I don't even know who or what to make the torture end. And it did...just in time to move onto "seatwork!"

"Seatwork" consisted of a ton of resistance band exercises--cramming my already exhausted thighs into what basically seemed like a large extra-stretchy rubber band didn't strike me as the most effective way to build a perfect posterior, but not even two sets later I realized these "large rubber bands" served a dual purpose as a modern-day torture device. Again with the shaking, trembling, raging-mental-debate-with-myself through ten to fifteen brutal minutes, and we hit the floor for abs. 

I won't bore you with the ab details--core work featuring 60-second planks, use of a rubber ball, added weights for extra difficulty--but after two classes, I can't sit up without levering myself by the arms. Class ended with a long, luxurious, ultra-rewarding set of stretches where I finally felt like I was channeling a graceful ballerina (HA! RIGHT.), and we wrapped up an hour later. 

Guys, this was HARD. This was probably the most physically demanding workout I've ever survived, and when I say survived, I mean exactly that--at points, it felt like I had to actually convince myself not to fall over or give up. As awful as certain sets felt in the middle, I found myself completely hooked. Come Monday morning, when every muscle we'd worked felt sore to the core, I couldn't whip out the credit card fast enough to commit to my trial. I scheduled out classes roughly 4 times a week for the duration of my trial, and already found myself back at the barre on Tuesday and last night. 

Today, I can't lift my arms too far over my head, and it feels like I got repeatedly punched in the gut, but I can't wait for my next class on Sunday morning. To check it out for yourself, visit hautebarrestudios.com. 

On my radar: Pop-Culture faves lately.

Funny how having this little thing called "free time" has enabled me to stay sooo much more up-to-date on what's happening in the music/movies/TV/literature scene lately. Previously, every January I'd go into a pop-culture cave and basically, if I hadn't heard of it by New Year's, I wasn't going to pay attention til the end of April. These days, I have a list of books to read that fills a notebook page, have been adding to my Spotify playlists like a crazy fiend, and want to see like...every single one of the films up for awards. So loving this season of life...and that's saying something!

Here's a few faves on my radar lately: 

Music: 

Smallpools: Reminds me a bit of Passion Pit. My sister Emily turned me on to them and they've been looping on my workday rotation pretty heavily. 

WE ARE TWIN: Another Emily find, corroborated by Kaitlin. Since they are the two coolest people I know when it comes to the best music, I think I can call this a win. I love the lead singer's raspy, soulful voice. 

Janelle Monae/Prince: Their collab on "Give'em What They Love" is sexy and sultry and bad-ass. Individually, Prince's "7" is the Man at his BEST, and I love Janelle's collabs with just about everyone on her album (Erykah Badu and Solange Knowles, hellOH). 

Books: 

Currently slogging my way through Khaled Hosseini's "And The Mountains Echoed," which was my book club's January pick. And which I totally did not finish in time for the club itself. It's so beautifully written...the prose just sucks you in and the descriptive imagery is lush in a big way...but the subject matter (Afghanistan from the latter half of the 20th century to present) is a bit depressing for Minnesota in January, which is already depressing enough for me. 

On the upcoming reads list: "Life after Life," "the curious incident of the dog in the night-time," and "Someone." Reports to follow. 

TV: 

Downton Abbey is back, and the world is a wonderful place as a result. Contrary to some "highbrow" people I know who claim Downton's jumped the shark, I think life after Matthew and Sybil is looking pretty good so far...just very different. Although the last 10 minutes of this week's episode had me "WTF"-ing hard and totally in frustrated tears, I'm a huge fan of Edith's storyline with her future Nazi and Lady Mary's climb back to the top. 

Aaaand swinging from highbrow to about as lowbrow as it gets, the Bachelor premiered a couple weeks ago featuring Juan Pablo and, ladies and gentlemen, it is the trashiest trash in the history of this trashy franchise. And I am soooo repulsed. Usually I can enjoy the show for the show's sake and find someone to root for. This season? It's just...dreck. I don't even know if I can hate-watch the horrible English, contrived dates, manufactured drama and no-shot-in-hell-does-he-succeed "journey to love" with him. But I'll persevere, for the sake of lampooning/lambasting it on Twitter and so I know what the deal is with the next Bachelorette. Yikes. 

Movies: 

So far this season, I'm woefully behind on the Oscar nominees. The only one I've seen so far is "Wolf of Wall Street," which took decadence and excess to a whole new, pastel-and-neon-and-nude level. I really enjoyed it, even though the 3-hour run time felt bloated and the debauchery got a little redundant. Leo definitely deserves the buzz...amazing acting. 

As far as upcoming films, I can't wait to see "Monuments Men" and "August, Osage County." Love me some Meryl and Julia, and "MM" plays right into my love of all things World War II/art-related, and heartwarming. 

I'm also thrilled with the buzz that "Blackfish" is getting. I know it's been surrounded by some controversy lately, but Jon and I saw it when it was in theaters last summer and I can honestly say it's one of the most sobering, faith-in-humanity-challenging documentaries I've ever seen. If you are even remotely interested in animals, theme parks, big business, activism of any kind, or documentaries, I cannot recommend it highly enough. Even if you're not…you should watch it just so you have something to contribute to the conversation surrounding it. 

Highly unoriginal look-back on being a "twentysomething."

I'm so sick of being a walking cliche. Everyone talks so much about being a twentysomething, and how awesome it is, and how awful it is, and how tumultuous these years are. How you're simultaneously so young and "omg sooo old, you guys!" The ups and downs are getting me down lately, and I'm tired of it. 

Twentysomething life. I turn twenty-five in a little over three weeks, and weirdly, I'm excited to mark halfway through this decade. Here's a super-brief highlight of where things have taken me so far: 

Twenty: Sophomore spring and junior fall at Notre Dame. Unfortunate dating choice at the beginning of the year. Unfortunate living situation at the beginning of the year, to be frank. Lots of wonderful band friends, a great, relaxing summer of daycare and reading (a pervasive theme through the early twenties), and that terrifying feeling of being "halfway through college." Life in Candyland, my junior quad, was fantastic and fraught with such stereotypical college drama in all the best ways.Heading off to London in January--the most independent, terrifying, exhilarating thing I've ever done. 

Twenty-one: Turned and celebrated in the most drunkenly forgettable/utterly memorable rager at O'Neills. Traveling Europe. Making poor financial/amazing life decisions (they ARE one and the same). Grew up so much and yet there's nothing quite like that feeling of totally naive invincibility that permeated that time in my life, and still makes those memories look so rose-colored (glasses optional). Summer spent seducing my Big 4 employer into giving me an offer, sans internship, a whole year before graduation--the security of starting senior year with a job was so. huge. Senior fall was rocky--I struggled with a lot of friendships, but fell 100% in friend-love with my roommate-soulmate Kaitlin, a relationship that has continued to grow and amaze and thrill me with its awesomeness. And we ushered out twenty-one with a horrid case of mono and a very lonely January of weekends spent in, sleeping...

and turned...

Twenty-two: in which I lose all sense of self trying to stay friends with people who, in (almost) twenty-five year-old hindsight, really didn't deserve that much time or energy at all. Spent the spring revamping myself, whittling off 30 pounds of weight and a lot of self-blame and guilt along with them. Took fluffy courses, spent a lot of time with new friends and, of course, Kaitlin, and graduated, oh god, graduated from Notre Dame. How devastating...how amazing...how lucky I was. Jetted off to Brazil, petted some gators, swam with the Amazon fishies, and climbed to Christ the Redeemer. What a life experience. Started my job, moved into my big-girl apartment, partied hearty and made myself a charming little life in Minneapolis...and met this guy, Jon, at a New Year's rager......

Twenty-three: Turns out it's NOT true that nobody likes you when you're twenty-three. In fact, a lot of people like you, as evidenced by my (still)hopping (in spite of busy season) social life and my budding relationship with said Jon who I met on New Year's. My first busy season kicked my ass and taught me how to suffer in silence...lessons that would serve and punish me later in my career. Kaitlin and I took a magical trip to London and Ireland to watch the Irish kick off a perfect undefeated season...oh, the hubris. I got in a fender bender, got into insurance at my company, and got into the most serious relationship of my adult life. 

Twenty-four: My professional career started to spiral out of control fast in my second busy season. Long hours, bad attitudes, difficult colleagues and a huge dip in company-wide morale reflected my misery back every time I looked in the mirror. Thank god for a close, supportive family and a boyfriend who could sympathize (because he was going through it too). A summer of playing house turned into a fall of actually realizing the challenges of cohabiting, which was beautiful and difficult all in its own weird, I-like-to-think-sitcomesquely-charming way. We decided enough was enough in our public accounting hells, and respectively relocated to a new, better company. I had nearly a month off between said job change, and spent it bonding with my family, celebrating the holidays, and getting my head back on straight. 

And that brings me here...to the eve (figuratively) of being twenty-five. I can look in the mirror and say a lot now about who I am and where I've been and where I'd like to go. The next five years will hopefully hold a lot of positive change in my life...a fulfilling, balanced professional career, a relationship that continues to grow despite kinks and quirks, more time spent connecting with and enjoying my amazing circle of friends, and continual improvement, reflection and self-discovery. Despite feeling old and mature, I'm still so young and so naive and so, so clueless. Here's hoping. Cheers, campers. 

Hell has frozen over...

 ...and they renamed it Minnesota. 

Guys, it is REALLY cold. Even being a Minnesota native, I can't remember back far enough to remember a time when even a few minutes outside was a: dangerous and b: quite THIS miserable. I'm incredibly spoiled by Jon, who not only dropped me at the door of work yesterday, but also picked me up there at the end of the day...ensuring I only had to be exposed to -50 degree temps for a total of twenty seconds yesterday. He braved the frigid walk to/from the parking ramp not once, not twice, but three times today (went over lunch to make sure his car still started), all to make sure I'd stay warm. Honestly one of the most-appreciated, kindest moves I've ever experienced. 

I've sunk to a new low: I actually wore leggings as pants. Those who know me know that I am vehemently, passionately adamant that leggings/sweatpants, while insanely comfortable, shouldn't be worn in public. Call me old-fashioned, or too sartorially aware for my own good--I've never personally worn them in public. Sunday, however, was a windchill of -20+ (-20-? If it's going lower?) and I had a date with my friends A&A, who are getting married this October, to put my formidable penmanship to good use addressing their save-the-dates. (Their save-the-dates, by the way, are stupid-adorable in every way.) I was super tired, super cold, and super cranky about having to go out in this weather...and I totally wore my UnderArmour fleece-lined cold-gear leggings over to their place. Thanks for not judging me, A&A. I promise it (probably) won't happen again!

Other things that are keeping me warm or making me feel warm and fuzzy these days:

-copious amounts of Green Mountain Gingerbread coffee (via my beloved Keurig)

-SmartWool socks (worn over and under everyyyything, including tights, at work, still. It's more professional to be warm than to get sick from being super cold, after all.)

-This hat and this scarf which I adore beyond all else. Nothing like being able to look moderately fashionable and not freezing off body parts in the process. 

-Knowing there are wonderful people who are helping out those who really need somewhere warm to go these frosty days. 

-Ironic listens to songs like The Virgins's "Love is Colder than Death," Ivan & Alyosha's "Running for Cover," Gold Motel's "Summer House," Passion Pit's "Take A Walk," Kings of Leon's "Sex on Fire," and We Are Twin's "Cold Stone Lips." Get it? Heat? Cold? Summer? Winter? Haha. 

-Laughing with Jon at the "hottest Bachelor season ever" last night. I don't even know if I can hate-watch Juan Pablo's season--it's gonna be AWFUL and I'm not sure it can pull off "awful in a good way" like most seasons do.

Here's to you, hopefully at home snuggled up warm with a hot beverage, or even better, NOT in the death grip of this "polar vortex!" 

brrrr!

Campers, it's -16 flat temp in Minneapolis right now…with a windchill of -41, aka "negative why the hell do we live here again?" and I am not a fan. I repeat: NOT A FAN. 

See that "Limit outdoor exposure thing?" Yeah. It's bad news bears up here. 

I'm making a career out of sporting super-thick Smartwool socks, and my J.Crew camper sweater, the one that weighs, I shit you not, 8.5 pounds (which I know because I weighed it in college). Hot chocolate, tea, and coffee have been consumed by the gallon (well, almost). Tomorrow morning our commute to work is forecasted to be in the negative FIFTIES. Schools across Minnesota have been shut down by mandate of Governor Mark Dayton. Some Minnesotans have raided grocery stores like it's the apocalypse, others have decided to work from home, and a select, very special few have taken this as some kind of bizarre challenge from Mother Nature and responded in a truly "Fuck you" manner by making slightly insane life choices. Like surfing on Lake Superior in -13 degree flat temps: 

Hearing about and seeing things like this makes me love and laugh at my beloved state. Other states cower in the face of dangerously cold weather. Minnesotans? We rejoice that the water "feels balmy" at 38 degrees. At this rate, I won't even need my Puerto Rican vacation in February--anything above zero will be call for a tshirt and flip flops!

That said, I hope everyone stays warm and cozy all day tomorrow and through the rest of the winter. I'll be layering up ever so attractively for that 7 minute walk from the parking ramp to the office tomorrow…wetsuit and surfboard optional.