T U E S D AY | 1 1 . 0 5 . 2 0 1 3 | E X P R E S S | 17
Guinea Pig | Tone Tome “The Women’s Health Big Book of Pilates” ($27, Rodale Books) is the kind of book you curl up with. And then hold on to as you rock forward, keeping your abs tight. Instructor/author Brooke Siler keeps more than your core engaged with a breezy introduction to the practice and its benefits, before launching into descriptions of hundreds of exercises, each accompanied by photos and pointers. Most don’t require any equipment — just your attention.
Now That’s a Gut Reaction Back on My Feet’s Anne Mahlum leaves her fitness nonprofit to open a new studio
Details
SARAH L. VOISIN PHOTOS (THE WASHINGTON POST)
Anne Mahlum cannot stay still. It doesn’t matter whether she’s midmarathon or in her Adams Morgan apartment — she bounds ahead like a finish line is steps away. Even the 32-year-old’s spiky blond hair seems to fly in every possible direction. This frenetic energy has helped Mahlum run more than just races. One morning in 2007, she jogged past a Philadelphia homeless shelter and some guys outside waved to her. Mahlum, who began running as a teen to cope with her dad’s gambling addiction, realized they reminded her of him. And it gave her the idea of launching a run club there. The shelter director “tried to think of the nicest way to tell me that homeless guys don’t run,” she says. Six years later, the nonprofit organization she founded, called Back on My Feet, operates run clubs at nearly 60 shelters in 11 cities, including D.C. and Baltimore. So Mahlum’s announcement in July that she would be stepping down as chief executive was surprising. And her news release in August saying she’d be opening a boutique fitness studio in Washington was a downright head-scratcher. But it all makes sense to Mahlum, who recognized about 18 months ago that she was growing restless and needed a new project. She found it in January at a studio in Los Angeles that specializes in the Lagree Fitness Method, which is taught at more than 100 locations nationwide. Developed by celebrity trainer Sebastien Lagree — who souped up a Pilates reformer
Feet playbook as much as possible. She wants a communal atmosphere, with “a lot of high-fives,” she says. The major difference is that Solidcore is a for-profit business. But Mahlum sees plenty of connections between the two endeavors. Back on My Feet was a personal project, and so is Solidcore. It’s her
Solidcore owner Anne Mahlum, right, plans to motivate her students through brutally tough workouts with positive energy.
to create what he’s dubbed the Megaformer — the method pairs slow, controlled movements and rapid-fire transitions to devastate muscles. “I walked into this class and I thought, ‘I can run 10 miles without any effort. I’ll be fine,’ ” Mahlum says. This time, she admits, she was wrong. With her abs on fire and her legs shaking, she inquired about opening the first Megaformer studio in D.C. Over the summer, she and her boyfriend, Brennan McReynolds, moved here from New York. And on Saturday, Solidcore opened for business. Because Lagree sells licenses rather than franchises, owners choose their own names and craft their own culture. Mahlum’s plan is to borrow from her Back on My
Getting a Solid Introduction At a Solidcore preview class, 10 guinea pigs huddled around owner Anne Mahlum as she introduced the Megaformer: It has stable platforms on each end, a sliding carriage in the middle and springs that alter resistance. Bars shaped like horns shoot up from the sides, and resistance bands lurk below. “We’ll never do anything for more than two minutes,” Mahlum said as the students launched into an abs-targeted warm-up. By the third move (which involved lying back and lifting and lowering the legs), faces were gleaming with sweat. “I know it’s already tough. It’s supposed to be,” Mahlum said. Despite an upbeat playlist,
students have to keep the brakes on rather than rush through their squats and tricep dips. “Going fast in this class is not going to help you,” Mahlum reminded folks lunging back too quickly. After some grimaces, a few grunts and a flurry of exercises (including the brutal plank-to-pike), 50 minutes was up. And everyone looked ready to lie down. V.H.
Take your first class at Solidcore (1841 Columbia Road NW, solid core.co) by Nov. 30 for $17. (It’ll go up to $22.) The studio plans to host charity events and classes for Back on My Feet members.
chance to reach out to people with body-image issues like the ones that plagued her in her early 20s. “I was throwing up my food like nobody’s business. I was obsessed with looking perfect, being perfect,” Mahlum says. “When Back on My Feet started, I cared enough about other people that it went away. I had a bigger calling.” Her instruction style is pure pep talk, with her congratulating people for pushing themselves and surviving. (And because this kind of exercise takes a toll, she encourages breaks: “If someone was coming more than four days a week, we’d tell them to stop.”) Jaime Albarelli, 23, a member services manager for Back on My Feet, sized up the vibe at a preview class last month. “This is a supportive environment, but it’s still no-nonsense. You have to be ready to work,” Albarelli says. “It’s like Anne.” Another thing that’s just like Mahlum? She’s already eyeing other potential locations for expansion. VICK Y HALLET T (E XPRESS)