Day 13 - Death by Dubstep

Barry's Bootcamp - Midtown

I have a lot of friends who are in their 20s, and for the most part I don't feel any kind of generation gap with them. Excpet when it comes to dubstep. Holy shit, I'm not sure when listening to anamatronic cats burping over car alarms became music, but it might be the one kind of music that will cause me to leave a room. It's like the "Entourage" of music.

And, like, I'm into EDM too. Especially at the gym.

So while I fully expected Wednedays' Butt and Legs class to be brutal, it was made an absolute hour of hell by the music the instructor was playing. The God-awful ambience might have been tolerable, but the instructor also opted to not run the fans during the workout, since there were only about 10 or so people taking the class.

I noticed I was tiring faster than usual when we hit our first uphill sprint, a 10mph run up a 15% grade for 30 seconds. It was tough, but I rarely take more than the 30 second rest inter al to catch m breath. not this time. This time even after walking it out the next spring was tough, and by the time we moved to the floor to do squats and lunges and all that other butt-shapign stuff we do at Barry's I felt like I couldn't breathe.

That's when I reazlied the fans weren't on. And I was drenched in sweat 15 minutes in. Despite that, I made it through the floor work relatively sompetently with a pair of 20 pound weights, though I still found holding them up to be tougher than I'd expected. The next set of sprints went fine (easier to push myself there I guess) but by the time we were done I'd completely sprayed the mirror in front of me, and it looked like someone had take an entire spray bottle and covered the mirror.

I really hoped the guy next to me didn't get hit. But I'm sure he did.

The seoncd set of floor exercises was even tougher, staying on all fours, putting a weight behind your knee, and holding it there with your calf, leg bent. I made it though the first set before my left hip started to fail. I tried to summon a little toughness and motviation, and all I got was

"BWOM....wup wup wup wup wup wup wup wup wup....BWOMP." Which might work well if you're at Burning Man strung out on Heroin. Not so great when you're trying to get your adreneline pumping to crank out some more reps.

I was able to block out the terrible music for the third set of sprints and some really awkward side steps on the treadmill. Made no less awkward or more motivating by the sountrack of the machines taking over through the speakers.

By the time we got to the last floor workout, I was starting to wonder if our instructor had picked this shit to make the workout harder. Kind of like she wasn't running the fans.

As I walked out she gave me a high five and said "Killing the game, Matt." I'm not sure how the fuck these people remember the name of everyone in the class. We're three weeks into the semester at UM and I'm at MAYBE 40% of my students, who I see twice a week. At any rate, the only "game" I killed was the "covering the mirror in sweat" game. And I will most certainly never return to a class this lady teaches. Unless she promises no dubstep.

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