Post-Workout Essentials


{My post-workout essentials: P.A.M.pered Ginger from JugoFresh and Vaseline Intensive Care Spray Moisturizer.}



{This is the only pic I snapped of myself at Flybarre. Why? As a reminder that rubber balls are not your friend.}

What do you do when Swim Week comes to town and you are forced to gawk at models half your age covered in what basically equates to publicly legal nude? You start working out like a beast two days before the shows start, of course. Thursday, before Lycra overload made its Miami descent, I hit Flybarre at Flywheel in Sunset Harbor for the first time ever. I’ve done barre before so I knew what was coming. Well, kind of. I mean, can you ever truly prepare yourself for the kind of workout that causes your legs to shake so violently you start to wonder when and where you lost control of your own limbs? So, up the stairs I went, ready for whatever awaited me. Ashli K, the instructor, a woman who probably sticks to her workout routine and I’m sure hasn’t ever had an M&M a day in her life (based on the way her Lululemon pants stick to her) was amazing. Amazing, because I like to feel the burn. It negates those Pringles and Reese’s I ate the day before. And during Swim Week pretending like junk food never happened is essential. But let’s not get it twisted. There were several times during class when I was convinced we should revolt by taking those balls we were squeezing between our inner thighs and hurling them right at absolutely perfet Ashli. I kid, I kid. Her class was great. But the funny thing about a barre class is that there’s nowhere to hide. There are mirrors everywhere. And Ashli sees all. At some point you and the person next to you manage to bond, simply by both looking over at each other with desperate stares that say, “please, god, no more.” There’s a glimmer in both your eyes that says, “We could just tie her up with the silver ab band and run.” But you press on, and do the last three crunches in that set of 10, feeling victorious and like a chewed up and spit out Sour Patch Kid all at the same time.

All joking aside, I loved the class and I’m dying to go back. Granted, I couldn’t walk for three days after and trying to get down the stairs that I was so able to climb at the beginning of the class left me feeling like someone removed all the bones in my gams and replaced them with lime green Jell-o, but I liked it. I felt like I did it. I survived. There were muscles in there that I had unearthed. Take that, models.

After wobbling down the stairs, I scooped up my two post-workout essentials: A JugoFresh P.A.M.pered Ginger from around the corner¬†and my Vaseline¬†Intensive Care Spray Moisturizer, which was being gifted to guests in the Flywheel lobby. My juice rehydrates me from the inside while my Vaseline rehydrates me on the outside. I love how it’s in a spray bottle, too. Let’s be honest, anything that shaves a few minutes off your schedule is well worth it. And a lotion that goes on fast and absorbs quickly is just what a girl on the go needs. Plus, the next day when you are so sore you are fairly certain your insides are bruised for life, you can hand off that spray can of lotion and beg your boyfriend to just spray it on and rub some kind of blood circulation back into your poor, defeated muscles. And since it’s Vaseline, you know it’s super hydrating without being greasy or sticky. Then you, like me, will get up the next day and do it all over again. Ah, the joys of getting in and staying in shape.



{Warning, you may need assistance on the way down, but it’s well worth it.}


*This post is sponsored by Vaseline. The rest is the ramble that rolls around in my head.