Short stories from long runs

This blog about my run and training

This weekend was less than stellar when it came to the choices I made in the way of consumption. It was a holiday weekend — a four-day feeding frenzy! — bookended with Valentine’s dinner on Friday night and a day eating my way through Portland, Maine to celebrate America’s great presidents. Just yesterday, I woke up and had a cup of tea in the hotel, made my way to the famous Standard Baking Company, where I enjoyed a sugared pastry with flecks of orange peel and anise seed with a second cup of tea before making my way through the Old Port and stumbling across The Holy Donut. Mind you, I’ve had doughnuts on my mind for at least a week by this point. I abstained and continued walking and window shopping, but let’s face it, at some point I had to turn back to make my way back to my car, therefore passing by The Holy Donut once again. There was gravitational pull. I indulged in a fresh, hot cinnamon sugar doughnut and it was “worth it” one-hundred-and-ten-percent. To be fair, I didn’t finish the first treat from Standard Baking…

Well, as you can imagine, after a slice of Otto’s pizza and a two hour drive back to Boston, I was feeling a little bit blah. Filled-to-the-top, but in desperate need of some exercise to redeem my poor choices. After settling for a little bit, I squeezed into some spandex and made my way to Secret Physique Barre Studio for an hour of awkward hip tilts and quivering thigh muscles.

I’ve been off-and-on at Secret Physique for the past few years. The original studio was too far from home and class times always skewed a bit to the stay at home mom population (with no offense intended, but the class times were hard for this working girl). Then, while working west of the city for the past three and a half years, the class times were nearly impossible. With my new found flexibility and spare time, it’s much easier to accommodate, though classes have always been, and remain, a bit expensive.

Nonetheless, barre classes are an outstanding workout. They never seem to get easier, per se, though my body certainly gets stronger when practicing with regularity, making the workout feel a bit deeper — if that makes sense. I very nearly had a solo class last night, but two last minute walk-ins made it just slightly easier to blend in. We lifted, tucked, pulsed, and collectively winced our way through class, truly feeling the effects of barre method’s theory of working muscles to the point of exhaustion and then countering the strengthening with stretching. Apparently, this gives your muscles the long, lean appearance of a dancer’s body, though I’m a far cry from that.

I came home refreshed and relieved to have squeezed in at least 60-minutes of exercise to counter my fried food binge (Let’s be honest, it also included a slice of pizza for the road… Nik needed lunch and company!). Only four days left this work week to eat well and work out. Surely I can hold it together.