Exploring Diverse Fitness Classes: A Week of Adventure
Vermont winters are stunning, but not always kind to nonskiers like myself. On the coldest and darkest of days, I’ve found that signing up for a workout class can motivate me to stay active. Nothing gets me moving quite like peer pressure and a nonrefundable fee.
But I’ve already tried all the typical workouts: high-intensity interval training, vinyasa yoga, indoor cycling, Zumba, strength training, and the like. Rather than going back for round two, for the New Year I resolved to track down three offbeat classes that would spice things up and make exercise fun.
My search for the unusual took an unexpected detour: I walked into Eat and Be Hoopy at South Burlington’s University Mall, geared up for an adult Hula-Hoop class, only to find myself surrounded by elementary-age kids. Whoops! I valiantly carried on and hooped while the kids were distracted by toys and their parents looked on in confusion.
Undeterred, I continued my quest and tried sword fighting, a waltz class, and restorative yoga. Here’s how it all went down.
Going Medieval
If you’ve ever fantasized about how you’d fare in a Renaissance-era sword duel, this class is your chance to find out — without the risk of actually getting skewered.
Noble Science Academy in Lebanon, N.H., offers classes in historical European martial arts, or HEMA, a discipline dedicated to re-creating the sword-fighting techniques of the medieval and Renaissance eras based on historical texts. Unlike modern fencing, the goal is not to score touches. Instead, participants simulate what it would have been like to fight in life-or-death combat back in the day — but in a safe, controlled environment and wearing protective gear.
Classes take place in the fittingly historic Lebanon Masonic Temple, where I joined a group of 15 students mostly in their twenties and thirties. On a recent Tuesday night, I bravely ventured into the fray to see if I had what it takes to keep up.
Noble Science Academy was founded by Michael-Forest Meservy in Reno, Nevada, in 2008 and expanded to Lebanon in 2014. The academy also has chapters in Las Vegas and Dublin. Lebanon’s is led by Jonathan Helland, a 45-year-old Jeffersonville resident who tutors at Norwich University by day. Along with an interest in martial arts, Helland is passionate about the historical side of HEMA.
“We’re gaining a window into how people actually fought with swords, which is something there are a million myths and misconceptions about,” he told me before class. “Like, every Hollywood movie gets it wrong.”
Apparently, real sword fighting involves less swashbuckling and more careful footwork. Who knew?
After a dynamic stretching warm-up, we split up into beginners and advanced fighters. While more experienced students sparred with real longswords — medieval-style swords designed for two-handed use — the newbies picked up plastic swords. We learned proper footwork, thrusts and cuts, and how to make a satisfying swoosh sound as the sword cut through the air.
Then it was time to spar. The protective gear, face guard, and gloves made me feel slightly more confident I wasn’t about to be impaled. But it still took some getting used to. When I stopped my sword just short of hitting my sparring partner’s face, Helland shot me a look.
“You can practice not hitting people in the face at home,” he said dryly.
Helland’s simple rules of sword fighting? 1) Don’t die. 2) Kill the other person. 3) Do it in that order.
I gathered my courage and landed a hit. The headgear protected us, but I still couldn’t stop myself from flinching when my sparring partner returned the favor. My technique was less than stellar, and Helland had to correct my wrist movements multiple times.
In the second hour, we switched to rapiers: thin, sharp swords wielded with one hand. Helland compared a rapier duel to a chess match — it’s all about thinking five moves ahead and outsmarting your opponent. In a rapier match, he said, it’s possible to overcome a lack of athleticism. This sounded like my moment.
Alas, my moment was short-lived. The rapier was heavier than I’d expected, and soon my shoulder and forearm began to ache. It turns out swinging a couple-pound sword for two hours is pretty tiring.
Clearly, I was not the natural-born sword fighter I had imagined myself to be. I may have left somewhat defeated, but at least I had a newfound gratitude for being born in the modern age.
Twirling With Strangers
I walked into the waltz class at Lines Vermont feeling slightly self-conscious. Without a dance partner, and as one of the younger faces among the middle-aged crowd, I was pretty sure I’d stick out like a sore thumb.
But the class description promised that no partner was required, and instructors Jacqueline Chant, 25, and Patrick Flaherty, 33, kept their word. After we each nailed the basic box step solo, we started rotating through partners every few minutes. By the end of the hour, I’d danced with nearly half the 20-person class, and any initial awkwardness had evaporated.
The beauty of partnered dance isn’t just in the workout, Chant and Flaherty told me after class. It’s also a social experience.
“If somebody comes to a dance and they say, ‘Oh, I only want to dance with my spouse,’ no one’s going to give them a dirty look,” Flaherty said. “But we both find it more fun to meet new people.”
Chant and Flaherty each started competitive ballroom dancing as students at the University of Vermont, where they got involved through the ballroom dance club. Their expertise was evident during class as they broke down the moves into digestible steps that even an uncoordinated reporter could master.
The Lines Vermont class was the first in a five-week series designed to help participants feel confident waltzing at social dances. Beyond ballroom, the adult-focused dance studio also offers classes in tap, ballet, trapeze, burlesque, aerial silks, and pole dance — many of which are also taught in multiclass series to help students build skills over time.
By the end of the session, I was gliding across the floor, waltzing to the rhythm of the music, and even executing the underarm turn — where the lead dancer guides the follower to spin beneath their raised arm. As I twirled through the movement, I was glad I’d pushed past my initial nervousness. Waltzing with strangers wasn’t so scary after all.
Calming the ‘Monkey Mind’
I rounded out my fitness adventures with a restorative yoga session, by far the least aerobic activity of the bunch. “Yoga” felt like a misnomer for the meditative practice, which has no down dogs, stretches, or even much movement at all.
The class of 15 gathered in the cozy, candlelit nonprofit studio to spend an hour doing … well, not much. Instead of flowing through different poses in quick succession, we held just a few passive poses, supported by bolsters and blocks, for several minutes at a time.
But don’t mistake the lack of movement for ease. The true difficulty of restorative yoga is learning to stay in the moment and quiet wandering thoughts — or “monkey mind,” as instructor Lisa Simonsen calls it. In an age when we’re constantly distracted by our phones, contemplative, quiet moments can be few and far between.
The meditative practice is ideal for anyone experiencing burnout or anxiety, according to Simonsen. Lying in stillness helps the body switch out of fight-or-flight mode and activate the parasympathetic nervous system, which regulates rest and digestion.
“We’re such a move move move, go go go society that just allowing the body to be calm, even if it’s just 20 minutes, the benefits are so great,” Simonsen said. “If you have anxiety, if you’re not sleeping, there’s got to be something other than a pill to take. This practice is something that you can do.”
On a few occasions, Simonsen has heard snores coming from class participants. She’s not insulted, she said — it means they’re really relaxed.
Luckily, I was well rested going into the session and didn’t drift off. The calming music and Simonsen’s soothing voice made the class fly by as we worked our way up from shorter holds to longer ones, a progression that helped lessen fidgeting. I was shocked to learn afterward that we had held the supported fish pose — lying on our back with a bolster underneath our upper back — for 20 whole minutes!
I walked out of the studio feeling more relaxed and clearheaded than I had in a long time.
