I’d done some reading about The Class prior to taking it. In fact, a Fast Company article, titled "Is This Workout for your Feelings What American Women Need Right Now?" is what piqued my curiosity in the first place.
From what I’d read, I expected an aerobics-like experience in a yoga-like studio with mostly women, and maybe some yelling. I was excited about the yelling.
Founder Taryn Toomey operates a studio in lower Manhattan, where the majority of The Class sessions take place, but on a recent visit to New York, I was lucky enough to find a single session in a Bandier retail shop, much closer to my hotel in midtown (though still a 20 block hike).
In the name of research, I pre-booked this experience a few days ahead ($35/class) and found myself on the 3rd floor of Bandier, just blocks from the Flatiron Building, in a dimly lit studio, yoga mats arranged in a grid, many already occupied by a decidedly female millennial crowd, quiet music pumping as though anxious to go full volume, the air rich with delicious earthy aroma- sandalwood? Or was it vetiver? The scene was set for the senses.
Though scheduled to teach, Toomey was replaced that morning by a sub, who turned up the volume on the music, and opened the class with a series of air squats, to the rhythm of a soulful song by Florence + The Machine. Was that 4 minutes.. maybe 5? Probably the longest period of consecutive squats I’ve ever done, but the loud music, accompanied by a drumbeat of mantras and reflective questions spewed out by the teacher, the addition of arm movements and periodic yelling - the time passed quickly, the room warmed up, the energy palpable. It felt tribal. It felt exciting.
Over the next 90 minutes, we were lead through a series that was mostly cardio, with some body weight movements thrown in. In addition to the squats, there were burpees, “skating” in place, planks, various ab strengtheners, bicep lifts, dancing, yelling. The dancing was my favorite part, freeform with the beat, evolving into jumping jacks, then devolving into a slower, calmer groove. Lots of heart touching. Lots of body scanning. Lots of music with motivating beats by some of today’s cultural icons - Of Monsters and Men, Kings of Leon, Cold Play and Eminem among them. (A quick Spotify search pulls up several The Class inspired playlists, which I recommend perusing)
Perfection was not encouraged. Fitness was not discussed. Performance was not emphasized. Narratives in The Class focused on self accountability, self discovery, acknowledging life's challenges, and working through them, owning your destiny.
The time passed quickly, and when it was all said and done, I had worked up a good sweat. My quads felt like jello from so many squats, but The Class wasn’t close to the best workout I’ve ever had. For the time (and money) investment, I’ll stick to my crossfit and running regimen, no question.
But, I enjoyed the opportunity to dance and move to loud music - by myself, but not alone. I enjoyed the invitation to introspection, and the mentally cleansed feeling that resulted. I enjoyed the yelling. I enjoyed the aromatherapy. I enjoyed the catharsis - a big word, but also an important one that is discussed too rarely in our society.
So yes, I’d go back. If The Class were in my city, I’d probably find myself there a few times a year. I’d take my girlfriends, then follow it up with brunch or coffee. I think we'd all agree that it was time well spent.
We’re all born with it, the mind/body connection. As infants, we react immediately and instinctively to physical discomfort. Over time, of course, we develop the ability to take care of ourselves and we learn to consider our discomfort before reacting, even when doing so is hard. I think the ability to rationalize a body’s signals is a necessary ingredient to living a healthy adult life - if everyone reacted to everything in the moment, all the time, that would create its own kind of stress and negative health impacts. That said, the ability to rationalize or ignore what your body is saying is often taken too far, resulting in anxiety, exhaustion, injury or worse.
I honestly thought I’d be better at it than I am. In fact, training for, and completing, 5 ultramarathons in a year’s time required me to be highly tuned into my body’s signals. Spending hundreds of miles a month on foot causes a person to notice the slightest maladjustments and dial into even minor aches and pains, while burning through shoes, socks, and (gross, but true) toenails with cyclical predictability.
I completed my last ultra about a year ago, and though I’m not currently training for ultra distances, I maintain an agenda of frequent and intense physical activity. The discipline that ultrarunning has taught me, not to mention healthy habits like fueling, sleeping, and goal setting, all serve me well.
Though I mastered the self care of an athlete - a daily regimen of running or cross training, movements for mobility, stretching and smashing of muscle, frequent sports massage, maximizing diet for performance - I also learned to minimize physical discomfort. I rationalized, delayed, downplayed and disregarded the kinds of sensations that, if experienced in the course of ‘normal life’, would make many people call in sick, at the very least. I disconnected mind from body at will, and with crystal-clear awareness.
Anyone who considers herself an athlete; anyone with a physically demanding lifestyle; anyone who prioritizes performance above comfort will understand this: The challenge I see most clearly, and hold in highest regard, is respecting - and strengthening - my mind/body connection. That means having the patience to sense what’s happening and slow down, and willingness to take the time to act, adjust, or rest, all while cultivating the ability to take care of myself physically in the way I’d take care of a loved one - not just when it’s convenient, but in all moments. No matter what feats of strength or endurance are in my future, I know this challenge will be the greatest of my life and - with any luck - the most rewarding.
Before I got serious about distance running, I viewed fueling on the run as frivolous - what was the point of replacing the calories you were working so hard to burn? That outlook was fine when I was playing with runs of 3-5 miles, but as I started doubling - then tripling - that mileage on a regular basis, my body quickly let me know that it would not happily run on empty for hours on end.
Now with 5 ultramarathons under my belt, I’ve had plenty of time to test and fine-tune training habits and calorie replacement while on the run. My findings are a combination of research, trial and error (hello, low blood sugar bonk), and happy accident (I discovered Uncrustables at a 50K aid station, and now I won’t run without them).
I’ve found that fueling is one of the more personal decisions a runner makes - over time, you will develop your own tried-and-true system - there’s no right or wrong way. (A frequent runner of 100-mile races found my reliance on PB&J sandwiches ridiculous, but hey - they work for me, every time).
Though this is my go-to plan, variables like terrain and weather require flexibility. For example, a day with 1,000+ feet of hill climbs will demand significantly more calorie replacement than a flat run, which is why I’ve included separate plans for trail and road running. Extremely hot weather requires greater electrolyte replacement than a day with mild temps. And almost always, running on a trail leaves me in greater need of replenishment than running on the road. So, without further ado, this is a general look at how I fuel on the run.
Uncrustables are my go-to. Store in the freezer, and remove before a long run. They are individually packaged, small enough to stow in a hydration pack pocket, and thaw quickly.
A note on Gu:
People have a love/hate relationship with the stuff, and I get it. The “Chocolate Outrage” Gu works consistently for me, so I use it, however there are many other flavors and brands to consider. I’d recommend buying a few different options at your running store, and testing on your training runs. Or, forego gel packs completely and reach for something more natural - like fruit, honey, candy - just make sure your calories are covered!
What about water?
Yes, hydration is arguably the most important aspect of fueling on the run, and something I’ll address in detail at a later time. Long story short - respect your body’s need for water, and don’t be caught without it on a run of any length!
I’m well over the half way point in training for my next big race, the Tawawera Ultramarathon 50K, which takes place in Rotorua, New Zealand. (Check out their marketing video. It’s a little cheesy, but wow. That scenery)
The Tarawera 50K will be my second international race ever - my first was the 2015 Patagonia International Marathon 60K just one year ago.
This will be my 5th ultra-distance race since then, and though I feel like I’ve been training pretty much the entire time, something about preparing to race in a foreign country - running with people from all over the world through an exotic landscape I’ve never experienced - adds extra excitement.
Given that I was training for my first ultramarathon exactly one year ago, it’s hard not compare the experiences. Here are a few lessons I’ve learned over the past year, and am keeping in mind as I prepare for the Tarawera 50K:
The training plan is guide, not gospel.
When training for my first ultra, I followed Hal Koerner’s 50K training plan exactly, and it paid off when I was the first woman to cross the finish line in Patagonia. That training plan took me from a casual mid-distance runner to a mid/front-pack endurance athlete, mentally and physically.
Since then, I’ve been maintaining a solid base of 40-60 miles per week, so I’m starting race prep for the Tarawera 50K from a difference place, in terms of fitness, knowledge of the outdoors, nutritional needs, and the endurance mindset. While one year ago, I was solely focused on building my mileage base, I’ve got that down now, and that focus has shifted to building efficiency as a trail runner, and maintaining mobility. While I’m referencing Hal’s training plan for the Tarawera 50K, and following it mostly, I’m also referencing my body’s signals, taking time for rest when I need it, and prioritizing my CrossFit routine to maintain time with friends, and avoid burn out from too much running.
The long runs are still necessary.
Short runs in a training plan keep your body conditioned for movement, and your mind prepped for competition. Long runs build endurance, discipline and confidence. Skip them and you’ll pay for it on race day. The adage, “you get what you give” rings true in this case. If you do nothing else, get the long runs done.
Train specifically, or not at all.
In my short year of many ultras, I’ve learned some very real lessons about the importance of training for the specific conditions you'll encounter on race day. Case in point, I trained with great discipline for the Holiday Lake 50K this past February, only to finish with the worst race experience of my life. How did that happen? My training took place at a time when the Mid-Atlantic was covered in ice and snow, and rather than throw on some crampons and brave the elements, I took a lot of my long runs on the treadmill in a cozy indoor gym. Even a treadmill run on a steep incline will not prepare you for real world, in the woods, frozen-wind-blowing-in-your-face reality.
The Tarawera 50K is completely trail, with about 5,000 FT of net elevation gain, and will take place during New Zealand’s spring time, so temps will likely be averaging around mid-50º F, and there's a high probability of rain, for at least a portion of the day. The race will include the largest field I’ve seen in an ultra, so I’ll be mentally prepared to start with a pack, and find my own rhythm. This is what I know, and this is what I’m training for.
Trust your intuition, and remember your why.
I run because it adds balance to my life, gives me self confidence and contributes to a positive outlook, which ultimately carries over into my relationships and work life. If you feel like you’re over-training, take a rest day. If you’re losing sleep at night because you’re stressed about the next day’s training run, ease up on yourself. You’re already pushing your body to physical extremes it may have never experienced before - putting added pressure on yourself will do no good. Remember why you run, and let that motivation be your north star.