Excuse No. 5: Working out is boring

Rope burn

I should have read the description of Crunch’s Trippin’ class a little more closely: “This is a hard-core, no-nonsense, fat-burning workout. Jump-rope your way to a leaner, meaner physique with intervals of lunges, squats, push-ups and abdominal work.” But I’m so excited about reliving grade-school PE class by jumping rope for an hour that I don’t really focus on the key words hard-core and no-nonsense. One look at the intimidating army-type instructor holding a whistle in his hand, however, and I know this class will be hard. As in, I-think-I-may-die-by-the-end-of-this-class hard.

Jumping rope is one aspect of this class, but the instructor also makes us do sets of push-ups, squats, free weights and sprints. I’m panting and winded throughout, but I’d still take this over the monotonous elliptical machine any day. My favorite part is when the instructor tells us to imagine things to keep us moving: Imagine you’re an Olympic gymnast and you need to stick your bouncy landing by jumping on top of the Bosu Ball. Or imagine you’re in the final stretch of the Chicago Marathon and you need to do this last sprint to win. With all that activity and motivation, the time flies by (unless I passed out for a while and didn’t notice). Available at select Crunch Gyms throughout the city (crunch.com). Times vary by location. Free with gym membership.

—Danielle Braff

Hip-hop to it

At the end of the workday, gobs of young Loop cubicle drones rush to the sleek, state-of-the-art Fitness Formula Club to squeeze in a workout before hopping a train at Union Station, conveniently located below the facility. Some of these folks also pack into Dominick DeFranco’s drop-in Cardio Hip-Hop class, one of the gym’s most popular group offerings, according to Desiree Buford, FCC’s member services director.

As a member of a local hip-hop dance company, I’m always looking to find some good classes, so I check it out, joining 13 ladies and a lone guy (who all appear to be in their twenties and thirties) to run it with some Chris Brown, Beyoncé and other Top 40 hip-hop artists in a roomy dance studio.

DeFranco’s dance background is in jazz, modern, ballet, and tap, and he was the director-choreographer of the N.J. Nets dance team for eight seasons. He enthusiastically starts things off with an animated lip-synched version of the Pussycat Dolls’ “Buttons” while he leads us through a good 15-minute warm-up using fundamental B-boy moves such as toprocks (jumping and crossing your body with your right foot and repeating with your left as you pump your arms) and stretches, which gets my heart thumping.

For the next 25 minutes, DeFranco launches us into a basic routine. He breaks down the choreography well, which helps the hip-hop newbies, and ends with a five-minute cool-down session. The choreography pace might be slow for advanced hip-hoppers—one twentysomething says afterward, “I’m not even sweating that much.” So if you’re looking to scorch calories, you may want to join the runners on the gym’s treadmills. But if you want just to relax after your grueling 9-to-5 day and learn some moves to show off at the club Saturday night, DeFranco will help you loosen up your buttons. FCC Union Station, 444 W Jackson Blvd (312-627-0444, fitnessformulaclubs.com/unionstation/). Wed 5:45–6:30pm. Free with gym membership.

—Jennifer Kester

Comic strip

People tend to describe me as “uncoordinated” rather than “uninhibited,” so I wasn’t sure how much I would enjoy Cardio Striptease. But I start to relax as soon as I arrive at my evening class at the Lakeshore Athletic Club Illinois Center, where I don’t see a single G-string—just seven other sheepish-looking women and our cheerful instructor Jacqueline, who is modestly clad in a T-shirt and sweats. The studio windows are frosted, so I don’t have to worry about weight lifters mocking my attempts to look sultry. And the first 15 minutes of class are strictly PG-rated, as Jacqueline leads us through an ordinary warm-up of stretches, crunches and push-ups—all exercises I might be more motivated to do if people were slipping me $20 bills.

Over the next half hour, with Britney blasting from the speakers, Jacqueline teaches us a long dance routine that involves lots of arm waving, butt wiggling and three point-turns. “No one’s looking at you,” Jacqueline declares. “Feel free to raunch it up as much as you want!” I kick myself in the ankle. Sexy!

We do learn some seductive moves—my favorite involves dropping into a squat, swiveling to the right and standing up with a hair toss—and we laugh so much I hardly notice I’m getting an intense workout. I’m just not sure how to break it to my boyfriend—who keeps suggesting that I practice on the living-room floor lamp—that the class doesn’t involve a pole. LSAC Illinois Center, 211 N Stetson Ave (312-616-9000, lsac.com). Free with gym membership.

—Lauren Weinberg

Thrust a move

The minute the fast-tempo Latin music kicks on in Xsport’s Cardio Latino dance class, images from nights I’d spent salsa dancing at River North’s Nacional 27 flood my mind.

A hodgepodge of students fill the room, from a middle-aged gent to a gaggle of twentysomething girls to a straggly haired high-school boy in an oversized sweatshirt.

Despite the sound of grunting and clanging from weight lifters filtering through the mirrored walls and the fluorescent lighting and warehouse atmosphere, I’m feeling the rhythm of the night. More than a few of us are adding extra pelvic thrusts and hip twists into the routine. Not only can I follow the steps—heavy on the salsa but infused with a variety of dance styles like merengue and hip-hop—I can follow them with ease…maybe a little too easily.

My thighs tire slightly from repeated squats between steps, but I still find myself adding an extra spring into the jumping jacks halfway through class in hopes of getting a more intense workout. Fortunately, the tempo speeds up about 20 minutes before class ends, and the dance steps get a tad more complicated, including aerobics-style arm choreography to make for a full-body workout. By the time we get to stretching, I’m not exactly tired—I could have done a 45-minute run after that, no problem—but I do feel like dancing. 4677 N Elston Ave (773-202-9800, xsportfitness.com). $10 for one-day membership, $61 for one-month membership).

—Jessica Herman

Jump for joy

Crunch is definitely the go-to gym when it comes to wacky classes, and Kangoo may be the wackiest. Instead of wearing sneakers, you strap on plastic ankle-high boots (provided) that look like Rollerblades—but the wheels are replaced by a sturdy, oval-shaped rubber ring. The boots themselves are uncomfortable—they pinch your feet and squeeze your ankles, and remind me of those horrible rented ice skates in terms of smell and fit. But once I get past that, I stand up and start bouncing. I can jump about a foot into the air wearing these things, and while the shoes look clumsy, it’s not hard to get the hang of them. Pretty soon, I’m an expert, hopping from foot to foot.

Bouncing burns twice as many calories as a normal cardio workout (according to my instructor), so we only jump around for 40 minutes to be medically safe and keep within the bounds of healthy weight loss. Without the shoes, I would have classified Kangoo as a typical aerobics class—we lift our legs, do jumping jack–type moves and raise our heart rates. But wearing the shoes, these steps are much more intense. I feel like I am jumping on a trampoline for 40 minutes, and if my feet weren’t hurting, I wouldn’t have wanted to stop at the end of class. Available at select Crunch Gyms throughout the city (crunch.com). Times vary by location. Free with gym membership.

— Danielle Braff