Articles

A personal essay

by Lara Janze

“Running my thumb over the hard edges of newly formed callouses, I shift my stance and grip the cool steel of the bar. Crouching low, I check my form in the mirrored wall of the gym; back straight, head up— one more adjustment with my hands until it feels right. Deep breath in, exhale and lift. My muscles contract and absorb the weight. I pull the bar up to the top of my thighs, hinge my hips back and bring the weight back to the floor. Deadlifts—they’ve become my favourite part of my training routine.

Three months ago I wouldn’t have imagined being able to deadlift my body weight, or that I would be so comfortable in a gym. I’ve always been active, but like many women, going to the gym intimated me. I’d always associated them with massive biceps, places where your worth was measured by the amount of weight on your bar.

It was my husband who got me going. After a persistent shoulder injury kept him from swim training, he signed up with a personal trainer with the hope of gaining more mobility. Results came quickly, and after a few months he asked me if I wanted to take one of his weekly sessions.

“You’ll love it,” he said.

I wasn’t so sure. It took me almost a month before I finally committed to attending a session. I’d built up a an internal resistance that I couldn’t understand. I’ve tried enough sports to know there is always a learning process. I didn’t have expectations that I would ace it my first time. I’m fit and regularly get out of bed before the sun comes up to attend  barre class. I wasn’t worried that it would be too hard or I wouldn’t be able to commit to such an early time. Yet, I still had a feeling of trepidation.

The morning of our first session, it was still dark and rain seeped through my running shell as I stood in front of the converted warehouse in Crosstown. I was buzzed in through an iron door and instructed to go down three flights of stairs. Descending into the subterranean bowels of the building, down a set of wrought iron steps no less, I started to question what I had agreed to. Images of weightlifters (lifted from my early 80’s memories from the Wide World of Sports) with bulging muscles and veins, small, poorly lit rooms I imagined to reek of sweat with little or no airflow, a den of hyper masculinity filled my imagination. Even though I knew this was ridiculous, I couldn’t shake the feeling as I made my way down the last flight of steps to the door. The space was tight; you would have to go single file if there was more than one person. Not easy to turn back.”

 

 

My love affair with Bar Method began over five years ago. That’s me, below, after attending classes for six months at the Yaletown Studio. I came across this picture last fall while scrolling through old photos and was amazed that: 1) I was that fit, and 2) I had ever stopped going to Bar Method!

Me: Five years ago after doing Bar Method for six months.

Looking back, this was probably because of changes in my schedule. I was taking on different work contracts and my son started swimming competitively. As with many of us, once a regular routine is broken it can be difficult to start back up. I’m sure I told myself I would swim or run in its place; which I did, but never to the same level of commitment or enjoyment I had when attending Bar Method.

Fast-forward five years, and I am now in my mid-forties. Like many women as we age; I find that my body’s weight distribution is changing. I’ve always been fairly lean with toned arms and flat abs. My body tended to hold weight around my upper thighs (aptly described as ‘saddlebags’ by mother’s generation). So, when I started to gain weight and lose tone around my midsection, it took me by surprise.

This was the final nudge I needed to get back into a committed routine. There was no question in my mind that I would be returning to my old love. Who says you can never go back! Walking up the stairs of the Yaletown studio, I felt as though I had never left. And it sure didn’t hurt that I was greeted by name when I walked in the door. (Now, if only those real returns to old loves turned out as well:)

I’m now four months in (that’s me below) and it’s been the best of all returns. My stomach is toned and I’ve lost an inch around my waist. My legs are stronger and tighter and my seat has definitely lifted. I’m working towards longer-term goals of seeing definition in my lower abs, improving my flexibility and doing all sets of push-ups on my toes. In class, I’m constantly amazed and humbled by women of all ages doing full plank push-ups.

As I try to press closer to the floor in the splits stretch, straighten my leg while attempting leg holds at the bar (I’m the one who still looks like a starfish­—too many points!) and work on getting up on my toes for push-ups; I remind myself that the results I see from pushing myself a little further each class is what motivates me to come to Bar Method. Just like life, all those small movements lead to big changes.

This is one love I won’t be leaving any time soon!