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Awkward barely covers it...

Posted Dec 25 2011 12:00am

So, as I explained a couple of days ago, a friend and I decided to take our first exotic fitness class. To say that I felt awkward doesn't even begin to describe it. The instructor for the class, Sarah was very sweet and welcoming and did her best to ease my anxiety, though it didn't work very well. Not for lack of trying, she was very supportive, but I'm very uncomfortable in class settings to begin with, let alone that the studio is meant for exotic dance classes which I'm even more uncomfortable around. I really wanted to ask where the bar was, because a few shots would have made this whole experience a bit less awkward for me.
Impulse Pole Dance and Exotic Fitness Studio  is in Northeast St. Petersburg and the studio itself is very nice. The floor is super clean and there is a small area right inside where Brandi sells the wares (and wear) for  House Of Cherry  where you can purchase a myriad of super sexy and super cute clothing, bags, lingerie and possibly deadly shoes.
My friend and I sat down and filled out the release form and giggled like idiots when it came to the injury release, seeming as how she gets hurt quite often and I'm not the most graceful when it comes to doing the fake sexy thing.
The class itself was pretty cool with only 2 other ladies joining us along with the instructor. We were taking a class called "Booty Basics" or Booty Bounce. When reading the description I was kind of expecting it to be a little similar to club dancing with a few naughtier moves thrown in. I was not, however expecting to be told that I needed to jiggle the parts that I try REALLY hard not to let jiggle. This was the first fight to hide the hysterical laughter that wanted to explode from me like an 11 year old boy. (There were plenty of other times in the hour long class, lemme tell ya)
I asked Sarah via Twitter what the recommended attire was for the class and was told to wear comfy workout clothing. This was PERFECT for me, since almost everything I own and wear daily is such a style. Unfortunately (for this class, anyway) said comfy workout clothing is mostly made of at least some form of compression from my waist down. (Hey, I know I have jiggly bits and I try to minimize or avoid altogether any said jiggling, ESPECIALLY while working out.) NOTE: Compression style workout wear is not meant to allow your "booty" to "Bounce" (or play it's role of Santa in the "bowl full of jelly" scenario, as was instructed in this class) since it's purpose is to control said bouncing to allow for more running or working out comfortably.
We started off pretty slow, which for me was ok, Amy wore regular non-compression style capri workout pants, so she was a bit more able to attempt the bouncing, but we attended the class with 2 other ladies that were wearing the short booty shorts that tie on the sides. BTW, these are SUPER cute and if I could, I would buy some for sleeping or lying in the sun. ANYWAY....
Sarah's music selection was awesome. It was of course booty music, but the first few songs were old school music that Amy and I used to roller skate to in middle school. BUT then came the first eye popping instruction. Over the blaring music Sarah tells us "MAKE IT BOUNCE, GIRLS!". Oy Vey! So, I waited for a beat or 2 and stared in amazement observed the example and started to giggle again. This is NOT something I do on purpose, it happens anytime I feel nervous or stressed. (funerals, weddings, birth, you know, the least inappropriate times. Though this time was appropriate) There's a song that says "make that @$$ vibrate" and that's what Sarah did. At this point, I was about to fall over. #1, I was giggling, #2, I do everything I can to avoid vibration (we'll leave the grown up stories to another post) and #3, my left hip flexor has been so tight for the last week, I could barely step properly. Though she has us bent over a la Betty Paige, I still couldn't take it. There's no way my pants would allow me to even try it without looking like an electrocuted squirrel. (This is where  Charlotte  would draw a squirrel being electrocuted, but it would be cute) But I did and it didn't work out, plus it felt like someone lit my hip on fire with an acetylene torch.
Then we eventually progressed to the "on all 4's" stage. Oy! This was 2x the embarrassment, but much easier. We had to make circles with our hips (Think yoga cat and cow) while arching our backs. Then we added in pushups with it. Kinda felt like this, but not as cute

We then proceeded to "shake it" again which was another giggle fit for me along with pain in the hip flexor. (I may need to find something to stretch that out better) Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not super prude, but when Sarah turned to give us an example of how it should look, the only think I could do was squeak and look away. I wasn't really expecting to meet someone for the first time and get acquainted with their no-no bits within an hour. lol
This behavioral reaction continued throughout the class and left me with a somewhat drunk/lethargic feeling. It was awkward and liberating and fun as hell all at once. I know that doesn't seem like a combination most would put together, but I've never claimed to be accepted as part of "most".
Over all, this class and the people at Impulse were all AMAZING. I didn't feel like it was a very hard workout, except for the pain of the flexor and the severe explosion of fiery pain in my quads, but I felt it the next day when I sat still for more than a few minutes. HOT DAMN!
Out of 5 stars, I give Sarah and her booty shaking ability an "OH MY GOD, people can do that?" and the class gets a 5, the studio gets a hardcore 5 and the offering of gear and shoes at the front door most DEFINITELY get a 5.
I know it seems like I'm cutting this review/post short and I am. I started it 4 days ago and now that I'm back to it, I have no idea what to say. lol But, if you're in the area, you should definitely go see Sarak and the rest of the crew there for a new fitness experience. It's an amazing place with wonderful welcoming staff and awesome music. (If I do say so my non-girly self)
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