What Nobody Tells You About Your First Lagree Class (And Why I Will)
It’s May of 2016 and Flume dropped their Grammy Award-winning album Skin alongside Drake’s Views, which was absolutely dripping in streams.
Me? I had just walked into my first Lagree class at a new boutique studio that had recently opened in Vancouver, British Columbia.
I didn’t know much about Lagree or what their method was, but I wanted to be a part of whatever this was before I even stepped inside. They had confidence (which I was very much lacking) and discipline (which I had a hot and cold relationship with). They wanted you in but they weren’t going to chase you down. The exact opposite feeling I had when I walked past the Church of Scientology next door.
What I did not know, however, was how I would be looking for any way to claw my way back into my next class ever since. Since I was still in school, lacking funds, and dancing next to DJ booths was very much an important nighttime activity of mine, I discovered this studio’s particular trade program — work the front desk, get some free classes — and that was that.
And every so often, when the 5am Saturday class had a no-show and I had checked everyone in, I would lock the front door, jump on the available machine, and escape my brain for the next 45 minutes.
That was ten years ago and I’m still here.
And now the part that nobody told me:
1. DRINK WATER (before you get there)
Yeah, I know. They all say this and we still don’t do it. But I mean it. Drink water before, because in Lagree, you don’t get any breaks — and I truly mean, you don’t get any breaks. Any time not spent being shaken down in a lunge is spent trying your damndest to listen to the instructor setting up the next move while you’re still fighting for your life in the previous one.
“In 10, you’re meeting me at the back.”
She’s walking towards me, why is she walking towards me?
“In 5…”
I’m shaking, what am I supposed to be doing?
“In 3…”
My mouth’s so dry, I just need one sip…
“In 2…”
This is not your time for a water break!
2. DON’T BE AFRAID TO LOOK AROUND THE ROOM
Someone will confirm with their facial expression that they’re experiencing the exact same chaos in their muscles that you are. And don’t be annoyed by the person with the audible breathing — because halfway through class you’ll realize you’ve been holding yours, and suddenly they’re the one saving your life. You’re human, and so is everyone else in that room.
3. FIND YOUR FOCAL POINTS
Find spots in the room you can focus on and return to, where you can land back down with yourself. Maybe it’s locking eyes with yourself in the mirror (and telling that girl she’s a bad bitch). Or maybe it’s that funny mark on the floor.
4. REMEMBER: EVERYONE HAS BEEN WHERE YOU ARE
You have the ultimate power in the room by having the least experience. No instructor will call you out for not getting there fast enough (they know you probably don’t even know where “there” is). You can throw your hands up and let out a “gaaaaahhh” of pain and everyone will nod, acknowledging your moan, knowing exactly where you are, because they are feeling it too.
5. USE YOUR WILLPOWER
The desire to quit will be strong. You will want to walk out, you will most likely be swearing at the instructor in your head, and you will be wondering why you surrendered your free will to show up in the first place. But here’s the thing about Lagree — there’s nowhere to hide. Push through it. It’s temporary, and you will be glad you did once it’s over.
And so, you, wafting in with your fresh scent of having never done this before, with your elegant air of optimism, and your simple smile of “I’m not sure what to expect;” you give everyone else permission to be more of themselves and become the people that you want to be around.
The thing is, nobody really knows how to be a beginner anymore. We outsource thinking, deciding, feeling uncomfortable, being bad at something, waiting, being bored, being present. Basically anything that requires sitting with something unresolved. We struggle with our self talk, our constant distractions, and our desire to be better than we were yesterday. What if you were to be the first-timer that everyone else wished they could be? To ask questions, to introduce yourself to your neighbor, to say “sorry I didn’t hear you” to the teacher when they are right beside you (only if you are really brazen). And have a little laugh to yourself and remember you can only be one for so long. So lap it up, dig down, and see if you can stay in the discomfort for a little longer than you are comfortable with; because that, that is where the good shit lies.
