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A post shared by Body Space Fitness (@bodyspacenyc) on Apr 10, 2019 at 4:01pm PDT

I’ve wanted to try Body Space Fitness for at least a year? I am loyal to Uplift to a fault, but sometimes a girl gets a wandering eye and knows there’s other strength classes out there. It seems like anyone who tries Body Space Fitness is kind of obsessed with it.

Well, I finally tried it yesterday. A friend invited me to go with her, and I will never say no to working out with friends. Let me start this off by saying: I am not in the shape I used to be. (I’m learning to meet myself where I’m at, though.) I was scurred. But the instructor was the badass Ivana Bolf, who I worked with at Uplift, so I was happy for another familiar face.

The warmup reminded me a lot of Tone House: butt kicks, high knees, sprints, agility work like grapevines (cariocas? new-to-me word), side shuffling, etc. I was breathless by the end. Uh, this is just the warm-up? Shit.

The actual workout was a metcon, programmed as eight stations, with each exercise programmed for a minute (:40 on, :20 rest). The stations yesterday were:

• • TRX one-armed row (I am so weirdly obsessed/fascinated with TRX)
  • Weighted prisoner get-ups
  • Ski erg (also weirdly obsessed with)
  • Jackknife situps
  • Rower 
  • TRX pike (I did a plank instead for my sensitive lower back, and getting your feet in this position is a bitch, also.)
  • Racked kettlebell curtsy lunges (I hate kettlebells with the fire of a thousand suns.)
  • Ab wheel

We ended with a five-minute finisher: a ladder of 4, 6, 8, 10, 12 kettlebell swings (I did kettlebell good mornings instead for my back) with just as many lateral bounds to rev up that EPOC.

When Ivana explained the workout I was all yay! I love all of these exercises…that changed, oh, 30 seconds in? That said, the workout flew by, and it burned about 460 calories, according to my BFF, Apple Watch.

10/10, would Body Space again (though probably still with a friend, and with an instructor I knew. I’m feeling easily intimidated these days—it’s not the space at all, it’s me.)