In a dark room, women grunted and stuck out their tongues as they exhaled. Eyes closed, feet bare, they clapped and stomped to house music. Soundproof paneling prevented their guttural moans from leaking out of the studio in a Santa Monica shopping center. From the street, the mysterious fitness space called the Class is nondescript, with no signage or displays. But inside, there was a cacophony of sound and a whirlwind of emotional release.
The Class offers one thing, also called the Class. In ads that followed me around on Instagram, actors Naomi Watts and Emma Stone called the Goop-approved workout “transcendent.” Still, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Was it rebranded mat Pilates? Guided meditation? A dance class? The next fitness cult, à la SoulCycle? The mystery is purposeful. If you want to know what the Class is, you have to try it for yourself. So I did.
After 10 years in New York City’s Tribeca, the Class (the C is always capitalized) opened a Santa Monica location this year, where I signed up for a 9:30 a.m. Class. Founded in 2013 by Taryn Toomey, a former fashion executive turned wellness guru, the workout now is taught daily by about 20 instructors across the two studios. Wellness retreats in upscale vacation hot spots like Napa and Ibiza also offer the Class.
It costs $30 for 60 minutes and runs on word-of-mouth among curious Angelenos, many of whom are believers in what’s called “the Method.” In a classroom filled with thick yoga mats, we began by shaking our bodies however we saw fit, moving and flapping.
Almost immediately, I understood why the marketing avoids specifics. At first, it seemed like Jazzercise for the Tulum crowd. Sometimes there’s even a live drummer. Parts of the Class were familiar — a series of jumping jacks, running in place, planks and mountain climbers. Rather than boring me, the repetitive moves made it easier to enter a flow state. In between the cardio exercises, the instructor would call out “hands on body” for moments of reflection. We each brought one hand to our hearts and the other to our stomachs “to ground ourselves.” Feeling my heart beat and my stomach rise and fall while catching my breath was a reminder that it didn’t matter if I was doing every move perfectly.
Small pulses and body-weight-only pushes started off easy but soon felt as difficult as heavy lifting. As a newbie, I wasn’t comfortable in the freestyle dance portions of the Class. I overthought how moves usually reserved for my shower sing-alongs might look to other students. As we flailed, the instructor acknowledged some elements of the Method may feel silly at first but encouraged us to allow our bodies to take over. No one was actually staring at my thrashing body; they were busy getting what they needed out of the Class. Once I gave in, I felt like I was getting my money’s worth.
If you haven’t experienced the joy of dancing in sync to a perfectly curated playlist with a room full of strangers, here is your chance.
“People come to this class because they hear it’s so hard — but they stay for the feeling,” founding teacher and vice president of teacher training Jaycee Gossett told me. “Or they hear it’s that one place where people cry, and sometimes people do.” She defines the Class as a music-driven experience that combines fitness, mindfulness and meditation. “We move the body in a way that creates a cathartic release. We’re processing strong emotions at the same time.”
After countless burpees, bicycles, squats and beyond, the Class closed with students lying down for a meditative moment. I felt energized, cathartic and impressed with my stamina. The experience felt more like a ritualistic dance than a calorie blaster. The fitness element is a byproduct of the mood-boosting work, not the opposite. The Class is a refreshing break from the fitness world’s weight-loss messaging, which can seem inescapable. But you’ll still face flashes of wellness commercialism. Products of the Goop persuasion are for sale in the reception area, including a “Sex Journal” and Class-branded supplements and candles.
From L.A. parks with exercise equipment to a stairway that rewards you with sweeping city views, these spots are perfect for an outdoor sweat-sesh.
Still, if you lean even slightly woo-woo, or want to challenge yourself to embrace something awkward, spending your self-care budget on the Class feels more fulfilling than buying an Erewhon smoothie.
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