The first time you endure the sweat inducing madness that is F45 you’ll likely be begging for mercy. Perhaps even thinking of ways to escape the studio without drawing attention to yourself, anything to get away from the world of pain you’re in. The mastery of the circuit workout come frantic fitness collective is in it’s addictiveness – yes it hurts but it hurts real good. If you haven’t tried it, you should slip on your darkest workout wear and prepare to melt, in this place burpees are just the beginning. And if you’ve been before you’ll know these thoughts to be true.
“How long can 45 seconds be?”
Turns out, really fucking long. This session of work will feel like that last 30 mins of school ticking away slowly. But at the end of your 45 minutes, you’ll feel like a Mt Everest scaling superhero – who’s day has only just started.
“Halfway? I only have to survive another round of this madness.”
Breathing deeply only does so much when you feel like your lungs are about to explode and your legs melt into the ground. Catching your breath is certainly easier said than done, but we’ve all been there. Pray for time to turn a little faster while you pound through the last bit.
“Who knew burpees were a lesser evil?”
For the uninitiated burpees may seem like the pinnacle of exercise evil, but in fact you’re wrong. F45 will introduce you to new moves that will engage muscles you didn’t know existed in an inducement of sure to be sore tomorrow exercise. Box hops are one such cruelty, but there are plenty.
“Who knew I had enough fluid within me to sweat this much?”
Think 40 degree heat with high humidity kind’ve sweat. The kind that leaks from your elbows and trickles from behind your knees; this ain’t no Pilates class.
“Hashtag Michelle Bridges.”
#fitness #fitspo #AmIInstagramfamousyet? #Iwillbethebiggestloser #Iamtheverypictureofhealth
“I thought I was fit.”
Oh yes, so did I – so did all first timers. It takes a certain bravery to dive into F45 without prepping yourself with at least a mediocre workout or two a week. F45 is a fitness wakeup call and it leaves you feeling so expended you can’t wait to come back and wither away one squat at a time all over again.
“Did anyone hear my exasperated pant? Hope not.”
Battle cries or genuine cries of exhaustion are not out of place here. If you haven’t heard a fuck or two thrown around during Hollywood then your crew isn’t going hard enough.
“Ew, who the fuck doesn’t bring a towel to F45?”
Gym etiquette still applies, yet there’s a not so gentleman exuding from all pores sans towel. You will question humanity after witnessing such poor form.
“I could be a fitness model, look at me go.”
It’s totally normal to picture yourself on the cover of Men’s Health or as a Victoria’s Secret model respectively upon working your way through F45. Right? Surely I’m not the only one.
“I regret wearing grey.”
F45 twists you dry of all sweat and grey shows all. Go for dark colours or moisture wicking fabric if you don’t want to be feeling a little sticky once the 45 minute mark rolls around.
“Was the Russian Twist crafted by Putin himself?”
Torture, arduous ab twisting torture. Since when did planks seem merciful?
“I can’t stand never lone bench hop.”
Thou shalt not bench hop with much precision if the bench hop is beyond the first few rounds. Thou shalt weakly skip around the bench in exhaustion. You’re not alone, they are a real beast.
“I’m just going to collapse on the floor right here.”
If you’ve done it right, the whole class should be on the floor with you – lying still and slowly counting your breath into time. Any surface will feel comforting after enduring an F45 sesh.
“Kayla Itsines eat your heart out.”
Empowered is how I feel, fitness is who I am. Ok- mild exaggeration. But thanks to that overload of endorphins post a good sweat, you’ll be feeling equipped to start your own fitness program and/or takeover the world.
“I’m going to foam roll my pain away.”
It hurts so much but like picking a scab it offers sweet relief. F45-ers know this is the only way to tackle those muscles you were newly introduced to – kinks be gone.
Image source: Well and Good.