This past Monday, I was invited to the studios of Tracy Anderson in Studio City. One of my best friends Tracie (who I could right an entire blog about) is Tracy's right hand girl, and offered another girlfriend and I the chance of a lifetime. We spent all day Monday training in Tracy's studio on Ventura Blvd. in Studio City. Our day began with a 12 o'clock private reformer lesson, followed by the famous band class- taught by the woman herself... and then we were lucky enough to stay for a private cardio class that Tracy was teaching to her trainees.
I'd like to think I'm very fit. I exercise at least four to five days a week, and I have done so consistently for the last 20 years. I'm addicted to food, wine, and fortunately... fitney. "Fitney" is the word I made up years back to take the place of fitness/working out. I like the way it flows much better. Back to Monday. Put it this way, I had my ass handed to me in a big way. There were moments during each class, where I was pushed so much physically and mentally, that I considered quitting. That never happened of course, but the thought crossed my mind.
By the end of the day on Monday, I was delirious. My muscles felt like they were sliding heavily off my bones,and I developed a limp. Tuesday was a little different, I could walk easier- but the delusions of grandeur that I had the day before about working out, were a faded memory. The most I could manage on Tuesday was taking care of my kids- which can be hell in itself.
Today is another story. My legs ache a bit, but it's the small and unknown muscles that hurt the most. There is no doubt that this method works. It feels amazing to notice the pain in areas I did not know existed. Despite the amount of pain killers I've consumed in the past few days, I look forward to the next time. Today I am thankful for my health, family, good friends and Tracy Anderson.