With the remnants of the scream still lingering in the room, Sara smiled, and Janey remembered CJ making her scream and hop like a bunny in her apartment the day after Beau threw down the gauntlet.
“Good morning, fellow seekers. I’m filled with gratitude that you’re all here. This morning during my meditation I couldn’t get some valuable thoughts out of my head. I wrote them down so that I could share them with you this morning. When things like this come to me, I know it’s the universe asking me to share its wisdom with you. Here’s what it told me this morning: I know we are often comparing ourselves to other women who may be younger and more fit than we are. The problem is that every year as we get older we have a larger group to compare ourselves to. Stop comparing. Acknowledge other people’s greatness and you will be more powerful and centered. Others will notice and embrace your confidence. There’s nothing sexier than someone who is content with herself and trying every single day to be better and improve on her own terms.”
Janey looked around to see the other women nodding. One even wiped away a tear.
“Okay, Tabata time.” Sara quickly shifted gears into workout mode, walking catlike on her tiptoes across the front of the room. Thus began a portion of the class that involved thirty seconds of intense activity—jumping jacks, high leg kicks, push-ups, sit-ups, squat thrusts—followed by ten seconds of rest. By the end of ten minutes Janey’s heart rate was through the roof, her back drenched with sweat, and she was ready to let loose her own primal scream. It felt fucking good.
“Now plank.”
The class moved seamlessly into a plank position, holding their arms and their core rigid for three straight minutes. No one groaned and fell to the floor when it was over. Sara passed part of the time with a well-enunciated reading of the Khalil Gibran poem “On Pain.”
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses
your understanding…
They dropped plank and moved into Brazilian street dance. Ten minutes of arms waving and legs kicking to the beat of steel drums. The rhythm was mesmerizing, almost magical.
“Find a partner across the room from you, make eye contact, but don’t go to her. Mirror her movements. Be conscious in your dance. Release your inner little girl. She’s been waiting for this moment. She wants to play!” Sara Strong commanded as she undulated her own body to the beat.
Janey felt strange. Her limbs tingled, she felt almost turned on as she followed Stella’s lead, watching the shaman’s long hair whip around her head as she moved in a sensuous rhythm with the drums. She didn’t even break pace as she pulled her hair on top of her head into a bun.
Next they split into four groups, each moving into a corner of the room, taking turns climbing a hefty braided rope that reached to the high ceiling, the same kind of rope they had all probably climbed in middle school gym class.
As she clung to the rope for dear life, Janey began to sweat like she’d never sweated before. Below her the rest of her cohort clapped, whooped, and did squat thrusts until she made it down. Her arms shook like fragile twigs as she gripped the rough fibers.
Back on the floor, Janey found herself enveloped in hugs from complete strangers.
Suddenly, Sara Strong leapt into the air and screamed again: “YEEEEE-EEEEE-EEEEE-EEEEE-EEEEE-EE!” This time the sound was more shrill. Once again, the whole class joined in.
“YEEEEE-EEEEE-EEEEE-E!”
And then came CJ’s favorite: “PAHHHHH-HHHHH-HHHHH-HHHHH-HHHHH-H!”
Nonsense words and sounds escaped the mouths of Manhattan’s finest and fittest.
Sara raised her arms skyward for a final scream before dropping into a heap on the floor. The rest of the class followed suit, curling into the fetal position on their right sides. Out of the silence came a gentle melody. The sweet sounds of…was that “Rock-a-bye Baby”? The lullaby? Because Janey had never had kids and because she was an only child, she had probably spent less time around babies than the average forty-year-old woman. Still, she knew the sound of a baby’s cry when she heard one after spending many, many evenings sleeping at CJ’s when her own apartment was being redone during the twins’ colicky period. She should have sprung for a hotel then, but CJ and Steven’s house practically was a hotel with their six bedrooms, three floors, and basement sauna. At least once a night, one of the twins wailed for an hour. Just seconds after the first was comforted and quieted, the second one would steal the spotlight and begin his own solo.
But those boys had nothing on the sound Janey heard now. She couldn’t help but sit up to confirm her suspicion that the sound of a baby crying was coming from the mouth of the fitness instructor in the front of the room, rocking back and forth to the tune of “Rock-a-bye Baby.” As the rest of the class followed suit, making their own baby cries, wails, and snuffs, Sara Strong appeared to compose herself.
“That’s right. Let your inner child out. You’re safe now. You’re back in the womb. Nothing can hurt you here. This is a time to become who you really want to be.”
And then, just as quickly as it had all begun, the class was over.
“Wait a minute. I didn’t pay for the class,” Janey said to Stella as the two women put on their coats.
Stella shook her head. “You pay what you wish. There’s a donation box when you walk in the door. I paid a little something extra for you today.”
Janey was perplexed.
“How does she manage to make any money?”
“People pay what they wish. Her class works for them and clients compensate her properly for it. Trust me. Sara Strong is no longer hurting for money. I’ve seen clients drop hundreds in the box.” They made their way over to the elevator. Janey would have liked another cup of that delicious tea, but the grand table had been removed from the room. All around them, women hustled toward the door.