Now that it's over, I'm not sure I can adequately express how much I did hate it.
It was too dark and too loud, which I was expecting. The instructor barked at us a lot, which I was expecting. The music was not really to my taste, which I was expecting.
But I was unnerved by the unrelenting "go hard or go home" vibe. Examples:
- "I want to see sweat pouring down your face right now!"
- "If you're thinking about anything other than your legs, that's a sign that you need to pick it up and get focused!"
Naturally, I got a bit rebellious. I started turning the resistance down instead of up whenever I felt like it and daydreaming (in direct violation of edict #2) about what I'd like to say to the instructor. About how a sweat-pouring-down-your-face workout might not be appropriate or safe for everyone. About how, actually, studies show that subjecting ourselves to this kind of relentless cardio for an hour straight is counterproductive. But that was before these doozies:
- "You might not like this kind of workout, but who cares? You're not here to be entertained; you're here to work!"
- "However hard you're going right now, it's not enough. It's never enough, just like in life."
Okay, first of all, I actually was there to be entertained. (Maybe that's just me.) But…It's never enough, just like in life? We must strive and struggle and suffer in a quest for perfection until the day we die?
Chamber of horrors. Seriously. And yet people must buy into it, because the class was completely full.