By: Tracey Middlekauff


Old school workout: Kevin Campbell hits the heavy bag during a session with a private boxing coach.
(photo by Gail Burton)



Everyone who has tried and failed to stick with an exercise program is familiar with The Moment of Unbearable Boredom.

It washes over you while you’re on the elliptical machine, the treadmill, the stationary bike—any piece of equipment that spins very quickly without going anywhere. In between thumbing through the gym’s wrinkled copy of Self, you find yourself checking the clock every thirty seconds. Has it really only been five minutes?

And then it hits you: There is no way you are going to keep this routine up for another month, let alone for the rest of your life.

It’s not all in your head. Your rut is real, and it can affect your body as well as your brain. Doing the same thing over and over can lead to repetitive stress injuries, and if you never challenge your muscles to do new things, you’ll likely plateau, stop seeing results, and grow discouraged. But if you mix it up (known in the fitness biz as cross training), you’re much more likely to stay interested, stick with a program, maybe even—gasp—have a good time.

In order to escape the endless grind of the Stairmaster, I went out in search of a fitness routine that would be less, well, routine. Something novel. Intense. Possibly strange. Most importantly, I looked for—and found—workouts that engaged my mind at least as much as they challenged (and sometimes punished) my body.





The Audacity of Hoop
Hooping Class


Hoop dreams: Noelle Powers and Owen Smith display their hoopidexterity.
(photo by Gail Burton)

Trance-y trip-hop music fills the air. A handful of adults, myself included, sway our hips rhythmically back and forth, back and forth, trying to keep our hoops aloft around our waists. The instructor, Noelle Powers, reminds us to change directions from time to time, both to balance out our bodies and so that we can become “hoopidextrous.”

If your idea of the hula hoop begins and ends with the flimsy plastic Wham-O version from the 1950s, you’re in for a surprise. For one thing, the modern exercise hoop is bigger and heavier than its kid cousin. The hoop itself dates back to ancient Egypt; then, it was made of dried grapevines. Some Native American cultures practice a sacred hoop dance, which in part symbolizes the endless circle of life. The “hula” part signifies an act of cultural appropriation to modern hoopers and as such is strictly verboten. (If you must, use “hoola.”)

Thanks in part to the current popularity of hooping in the jam-band and rave scenes, the modern hooper tends to be something of a laid-back hippie type: Think peace, love, and understanding, by way of Burning Man. Hooping is the perfect antidote to a modern, frenzied, results-driven type-A workout. It’s more like playing than exercising—getting in shape just, like, happens.

“Sure, it’s a great exercise for your body,” Powers says. “But it’s also great for your brain.” Because the hoop is touching the left and right sides of the body in quick succession, both hemispheres of the brain are being activated in a unique way. This bilateral stimulation, Powers believes, is a great stress reducer. Hooping can also be “therapeutic, spiritual, and meditative,” she says.

In class, we don’t just learn how to keep the hoops twirling around our hips. We learn to move in a circle, to twirl the hoops on our arms and necks, and how to move the hoop up and down our bodies. It’s all in the speed: Powers demonstrates that, if you slow down, the hoop will slide below your hips; increase your speed and the hoop rises. When I try this, the hoop slides all the way down, not to be coaxed back up. “It was not what I had anticipated,” first-timer Brian Fitzek confesses afterward. “Before, I had a hard time imagining hooping for an hour, but I came to realize there is much more one can do with hoops.”

Once we have the basics down, Powers, who comes from a dance background, encourages us to cut loose and express ourselves to the music. “Take your own style into the hoop,” she says. After hooping for an hour, my style is to stand in one place and try to keep the thing aloft. But even with my technical limitations, I can begin to feel hooping’s rhythmic, hypnotic quality—there is definitely something soothing in keeping the big wheel turning.

There are ongoing hooping classes at Studio Edge in Mount Washington (1425 Clarkview Rd., Suite 500; 410-296-4955; www.thestudioedge.com) and the Stadium Place YMCA (900 E. 33rd St.; 410-889-9622; www.ymaryland.org). Visit www.hoopingpowers.com for schedules.





Sir Yes Sir!
Charm City Fitness Boot Camp


Drill now: Jodi Naasz leads her recruits through boot camp.
(photo by Gail Burton)

In a gadget- and gear-obsessed world, boot camp is a refreshing return to bare-bones exercise—an old-school beatdown, if you will. Since April 2007, Charm City Fitness has been offering twice-weekly one-hour boot camp classes in Patterson Park. No fancy machines or plasma TVs. It’s just you and your willpower. Which you are going to need: The program was designed by Chris Gonzalez, a personal trainer at Charm City Fitness and an ex-Marine.

My teacher, Charm City co-owner Jodi Naasz, is impossibly fit, but not in an intimidating, unachievable way. Neither a scary Lou Gossett Jr.-style drill sergeant nor an insufferable cheerleader type, Naasz manages to be simultaneously motivational and sarcastic: “If you need to stop, stop,” she tells us during class. “I’m not going to laugh at you. … Well, maybe on the inside.”

Boot Camp sessions are coed, but my class is an all-girl army. Things get going gently enough, with a brief jog around the Pulaski Monument and back to our starting position by the tennis courts, where we warm up with some calf, quad, and bicep stretches. Then it’s down to business. We take off running around the park doing “Indian sprints”—the class forms a line, with each participant running next to a partner. Naasz sets the pace (it’s fast), and when she shouts, “Go!” the last in line sprints to the front. Again. And again. And again. Never a fast runner, I experience a bit of high-school-track-team anxiety that I will be left behind at the back of the pack. I’m a sweaty, gasping mess, but I keep up.

This is followed by calisthenics, sit-ups, crunches, leg lifts, squats … and more Indian sprints. Naasz plants us in the full August sun to do push-ups. But it isn’t until I find myself with burning legs, trying to bunny-hop up a flight of stairs for the second time, that the full meaning of “boot camp” starts to sink in.

Despite all the physical punishment, what could be a grueling endurance test is actually kind of lighthearted, thanks in large part to Naasz’s upbeat attitude and unbridled enthusiasm. “I love being fit and exercising, but I understand that most people don’t share my enthusiasm,” she says. “My goal is to make fitness less intimidating and more enjoyable for my clients.”

And her clients definitely catch the spirit. Alison Jones liked what she saw in boot camp so much that she reenlisted for a second round. “What sets boot camp apart is that I don’t get bored,” she says. “I tend to lose focus in my usual routines.”

Charm City Fitness: 3039 Eastern Ave.; 410-327-8783; www.citysweat.com




Street Fighter
Krav Maga


Lethal weapon: Dewi Smith toughs it out in a Krav Maga punching drill. The self-defense classes are designed to simulate the adrenaline rush of real combat.
(photo by Gail Burton)

 “It took me years to realize you can kick someone in the groin even when they’re bending over.”

Not exactly the kind of thing you want to hear from your instructor at the average group exercise class. But at Krav Maga Maryland in Owings Mills, fitness is the byproduct, not the goal. Learning practical, real world self-defense skills is the number-one priority here, and the real world angle is no joke: Krav Maga teaches techniques to defend against all manner of attacks, including those from assailants armed with knives and guns. The system was devised by the Israeli military and is now part of the required training for Baltimore County police officers.

Krav Maga is not a martial art in the traditional sense. “It’s not aesthetic,” says lead instructor and director of operations Jeff Mount. “It’s purely functional, and the one goal is self-defense.”

It’s true: In one class, I learn how to get out of two chokeholds and a headlock. At first, grabbing my partner’s face in order to wriggle free of his grip feels downright impolite, but after a few tries it begins to seem disturbingly natural. The hour-long class is punctuated by fast, intense, exhausting drills: sprinting, jumping with the knees to the chest, kicking, punching, and then kicking some more. All of this is designed to wear you out and train you to be, as Mount says, “explosive.”

“You must feel physically, emotionally, and mentally what it’s like to be in a fight,” he says. “In that situation, your adrenaline and your fear will make you feel like this.” Once you reach the point of exhaustion, it’s time to go at it again.

There’s an almost joyous bloodthirstiness to all this, but the vibe is not macho; women make up about 30 to 40 percent of the student body. Erika Kilchenstein, a student at Towson University, loves Krav Maga so much that she participates in a sparring session despite broken toes. (No, she didn’t break them in class.) The injury doesn’t seem to stop her from kicking, wrestling, or hanging upside down from the heavy bag while her gloved classmate punches her in the stomach and ribs.

“You don’t even know you’re exercising!” she enthuses afterwards. “I’ll take class for three hours at a time because it’s so interesting.”

Krav Maga in Owings Mills: 11299 Owings Mills Blvd., Suite 113; 410-356-0707; www.kravmd.com. Visit the website for other area locations.




Ladies Only
Pole Dancing and Exotic Chair Class


Pole position: Amy Solis flips for the “stripper workout” at Xpose Fitness.
(photo by Gail Burton)

Candace Schaeck, owner and instructor at Xpose Fitness in Towson, is leading a room full of women of very different shapes and sizes in something called an exotic chair class. “Keep on those toes, pretty ladies!” she exhorts. “Doesn’t it feel goooood? Oooh!” About half of the students wear sky-high stripper heels or go-go boots, while the other half—myself included—sport more modest white gym socks.

Nothing particularly salacious is actually going on here. While there are some hip grinds and pelvic thrusts in the routine, exotic chair class is essentially an incredibly vigorous core workout combining elements of Pilates and yoga. The main deviations from a standard exercise class are the incorporation of a chair, which is occasionally straddled and referred to as your “victim,” and the spinning disco ball, which helps set the mood.

The self-proclaimed mission of the Xpose Fitness chain is to help women feel fit, sexy, and empowered. No men are allowed past the lobby, and there’s definitely a chummy clubbiness among the women here—and an almost feverish devotion to the system.

“It’s totally non-judgmental,” says florist Sharon Gordon, who has been an adherent for two years. At 50, she is rocking a pair of black knee-high, lace-up go-go boots and a tiny black skort. “It’s changed my confidence and my body image for the better. This group of women has become like a family.”

Of course, the most iconic element of the so-called “stripper workout” is pole dancing, the other class offered at Xpose. The pole studio consists of ten brass poles, a wall of mirrors, and another disco ball. Jamie Fleming, a student at Towson University, calls it “vertical ballet.” In her pink skort and silver glitter disco boots, she demonstrates a seemingly impossible contortion called “the Gemini,” followed by an inversion in which she holds onto the pole with her legs, eventually ending up in a handstand with her legs in a straddle. She’s been taking lessons for six months and claims that her first time she was “totally uncoordinated.” Now she makes it look easy.

I quickly discover that there’s nothing easy about it. Working the pole—the spins, the dips, and the more advanced inversions—requires a lot of core and upper-body strength. To help build that strength, Schaeck instructs us to jump up, grab the pole, and hold on for dear life. My shaking biceps can’t “It’s totally non-judgmental,” says florist Sharon Gordon, who has been an adherent for two years. At 50, she is rocking a pair of black knee-high, lace-up go-go boots and a tiny black skort. “It’s changed my confidence and my body image for the better. This group of women has become like a family.”

Of course, the most iconic element of the so-called “stripper workout” is pole dancing, the other class offered at Xpose. The pole studio consists of ten brass poles, a wall of mirrors, and another disco ball. Jamie Fleming, a student at Towson University, calls it “vertical ballet.” In her pink skort and silver glitter disco boots, she demonstrates a seemingly impossible contortion called “the Gemini,” followed by an inversion in which she holds onto the pole with her legs, eventually ending up in a handstand with her legs in a straddle. She’s been taking lessons for six months and claims that her first time she was “totally uncoordinated.” Now she makes it look easy.

I quickly discover that there’s nothing easy about it. Working the pole—the spins, the dips, and the more advanced inversions—requires a lot of core and upper-body strength. To help build that strength, Schaeck instructs us to jump up, grab the pole, and hold on for dear life. My shaking biceps can’t cut it, and I slide to the floor in an unbecoming heap.

I’m also having a bit of trouble letting go when it comes to the more, er, expressive moves. Crawling around like a cat and hoisting my leg around a metal pole feel more awkward than sexy. Then again, it could be my gym socks and sweatpants. No one else seems to be encumbered by self-consciousness, after all.

“It gives you a new respect for women who do it for a living!” Gordon says.

 “This is it for me,” Fleming adds. “I just can’t do elliptical bullshit.”

Xpose Fitness: 1700 Joan Ave., Towson; 410-661-1301; www.xposefitness.com. Visit website for other area locations.




The Sweet Science
Private Boxing Lessons


It’s a hit: Trainer Jim Meyer puts client Kevin Campbell (pictured) through a punching drill.
(photo by Gail Burton)

If you take private boxing lessons from personal trainer and coach Jim Meyer, you’re not going to get some watered-down cardio-aerobics version. He’s got too much respect for the sport for that. He will put you through the same paces, drills, and exercises he teaches to the pros he trains. That doesn’t mean you’re going to have to get in the ring and fight, but you will get an intense workout that requires your full physical and mental participation.

Meyer started boxing when he was 8 in a program at the Middle River Boys Club. He had Olympic aspirations, which were dashed when he tore up his knee in a motorcycle accident, ending his amateur career with a 42-2-0 record. He worked as a personal trainer for several years before he started teaching his favorite sport to his non-boxer clients. “From the very start I wanted to teach real boxing and nothing else,” Meyer says. “I knew the workout got results, and learning the science was fun. I’m happy to say I’ve created a lot of boxing fans from people who were never interested in the sport.”

My lesson begins with two two-minute rounds of jump rope, to build endurance and to develop hand-eye coordination. Then it’s on to major core work combined with plyometrics—explosive movements that help develop a powerful punch. In one exercise, I lie flat on my back while Meyer repeatedly drops a medicine ball towards my head from above, which I must catch and throw back up to him. My arms are already shaking, and I haven’t even boxed yet.

Then comes the fun stuff: the actual punching drills. Meyer wraps my hands and helps me into my gloves—I feel, briefly, like a real fighter. Then I realize how little I actually know. First I must learn the proper stance. Then, Meyer teaches me the six basic numbered punches—left jab is one, right cross is two, left and right hooks are three and six, left and right uppercuts are five and four. It sounds simple until he starts calling out combinations for me to land on the focus mitts (special padded leather gloves that serve as targets).

Meyer gives me a whirlwind tour through skills that ordinarily would be developed over weeks—punching the heavy bag, the reflex bag, and the life-size dummy that Meyer calls “Bob.” The reflex bag gives me the most trouble. I flail at it, trying desperately to land a glove on the bobbing and weaving bag. In the few times I manage to connect with a left jab, my timing is all wrong and my punch feels weak as a kitten’s.

I have better luck later in my session working on the focus mitts. For a brief time, during a fast (for me) punching combination, I get to taste the addictive quality of getting in the zone. My gloves make a satisfying “thwack” as they land on the mitt’s sweet spot. I’m not thinking, I’m reacting; I am one with my gloves. Of course, the moment I notice this, the spell is broken and I almost put my face into a focus mitt. “You started thinking,” Meyer says, sagely. An hour of my life has never passed so quickly.

Meyer says he always likes to mix things up to make sure his clients stay motivated. That’s what keeps Anne Santoni Rouse coming back for more. “He is always challenging me,” Rouse says. Once, Meyer wrapped a rubber strength-training band around her waist, stretched it out, and made her pull him up and down the gym. “I was probably saying some interesting words that day,” she laughs.

The next day, I wake up feeling as if a truck ran over my forearms and obliques. And I want to do it again. In fact, I feel as if I could do this exact workout every day and never get tired of it. Mission accomplished.

Baynesville Boxing and Fitness: 8630 Loch Raven Blvd., Towson; 410-698-5032; www.marylandfitnesstrainer.com.

—Freelance writer Tracey Middlekauff lives in Homeland. This is her first story for Urbanite.



Workout Makeover

Still not satisfied? Here are some more ideas to help liven up your fitness routine.

Get in touch with your inner goddess with some belly dancing lessons. For a list of area instructors, visit www.baltimorebellydance.com.

Capoeira is a martial art developed by slaves in Brazil in which fighting masquerades as dancing. (See Urbanite, January ’07). Visit the website of the International Capoeira Angola Foundation’s Baltimore chapter for class information and locations: www.baltimorecapoeira.org.

There’s a reason that ballet dancers have such long, lean muscles. Become the prima ballerina or danseur you know you were meant to be with adult ballet classes at Baltimore Ballet  (www.baltimoreballet.org).

When you were a kid, you called it having fun, not exercise. Bring that joy back and go rollerskating with friends or family at Putty Hill Skateland (8019 Belair Rd.; 410-661-7778).

If Marie Osmond can do it, you can too. Learn swing dancing at the Avalon Movement Studio in Catonsville (www.avalondance.com).



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