A reality I envision myself fervently in is where I am looking as lithe and graceful as Plana Forma instructors Celine Encarnacion, Dani Cornejo, and Bernadette Osias. I’m elegantly lean as, together with either one of them, I extend my leg – toes pointed – back up in the air or the side like a ballerina. But alternate reality is mythical and I crash back on Earth struggling to hold my leg up or maintaining the half-way “sitting” position while pulsing for three counts at the barre. Barre workouts belie an effort that would make a grown-up cry. I’ve been keen to attend such a class ever since I first got wind of barre workouts from an FB friend who is passionate and passionately posted pictures about her barre classes in Kuala Lumpur.
the studio ready for Forma classes [Plana Forma, Il Terrazzo]
View of the reception from the studio foyerI was on the lookout for a place to exercise while on vacation in Manila, waning something different from my usual gym workout. I found my answer at Il Terrazzo in Quezon City where Plana Forma’s second studio is.
“It’s a combination of Pilates and yoga, which you are familiar with, but we go deeper and concentrate on the little muscles. Give it a try,” said Celine encouragingly before leaving the studio. Her warm welcome and succinct explanation of the Plana Forma concept had me signing up for the Newcomer package of 10 classes.
Plana Forma, I read on its website, is a ballet barre technique that merges the precepts of yoga, Pilates, and dance into an hour’s workout at their Plana Forma studios at Makati or Quezon City. Class reservation is done via mindbodyonline.com; you get a confirmation email after signing up. Important rules to remember are to show up 15 minutes before the class or your slot would be given to someone on the wait list; and to bring your non-slip socks (sold for PhilP350 at the counter) for Forma classes, trainers for Zumba, and yoga mat for Forma Asana. You can stow your things in a borrowed locker and ask for towels (big or small) before the class. The studio closes shortly before lunch and opens before 615pm.
Newcomer to Barre
Thigh warrior beginners are advised to attend the Forma Core class to get familiar with the form, techniques, and breathing. I followed the advice and signed up for Van Manalo’s class that was packed to the rafters on an Eid Mubarak Monday morning. The push-ups were a cinch but the thigh workout, which came after the fast-paced, upbeat warm up, was more than challenging. Fortunately, my personal trainer had me do endless squats because I wouldn’t have lasted during the first set of eight half squats – visualise sitting minus the chair – at the barre.
a view of Tomas Morato or a mirror for your spot at the studio Don’t forget your non-slip socks for the Forma classes. a selfie by the neophyte thigh warrior before the start of classIt begins with students getting their two pairs of dumbbells – one heavier than the other – from a shelf near the music console for the warm up. Next is locating your spot at the barre that is already set up with a yoga mat, square cushion (aka square mat), black strap hanging from the barre, a blue ‘playground ball’, and a rolled-up thick blue mat. The endings are stretches that target the IT band (iliotibial band) and yoga poses for the upper body.
Beginners were laughing at Van’s class with his witty quips which he inserted as he counted or switched to the next movement. They certainly kept you distracted from the burning sensation in your muscles! I let out a guffaw in the midst of an abdominal exercise – small movements from the middle then upper section of the abs – when he wickedly wisecracked, “It should be your abdominal muscles tightening, not the face! Smile!”
Van introduces himself to the class Dani gets to know her studentsI attended two Forma Core classes – the other one with Dani who was less of a comic than Van but still peppy – just to get the routine down pat and then upped the ante with Forma Core+ with Celine who struck me as the geek of all the instructors. Her directions were accompanied by explanations of what is supposed to happen or is happening to the muscles complete with their scientific names. But just like Van and Dani, she was animated and had her signature quip “Beautiful” to compliment her students whenever they executed a movement well.
Picking up the Pace
Satisfied that I wasn’t lost in the routine anymore, I ventured into other classes viz. Forma Endurance, Forma Strength, and Forma Mi.X.ed. I met Celine again in Forma Strength that led to epiphanies about bikini bottom muscles and quivering legs: using your own body weight and engaging the core muscles should be the fitness goal from the beginning. If you can carry yourself in an exercise class, you’re on the right path to fitness. Moreover, little movements are more effective in getting those core muscle tight and strong. I credit my personal trainer for getting me in shape for Forma classes – I can keep pace with the instructors even though I may look like a gorgeous elephant projecting as a swan.
Celine prepares her music and (inset) at the barre [LiveCollage]My Forma Mi.X.ed experience was with high-school-student-looking Clark Dela Riva. I meant high-school student-looking as an encomium. He injected a playfulness to the routine dovetailed with wisecracks a la co-teacher Van while flashing a boyish smile
“The face shouldn’t scrunch up like your abdominal muscles. Open the chest, relax the shoulders, and smile. Good morning!” he’d say innocently but with a hint of cheekiness, as we went about pulsing in half-squat position, squeezing the playground ball in between the legs, at the barre. He also had a signature spiel which would either be “Perfect!” or “Good morning”; at times he’d blurt out “Thank you” like a polite school boy if everyone followed his suggestion of, say, raising the arms to the sky for a more challenging mid-section workout.
I found my stride in Clark’s class, following seamlessly in working the core muscles because the tempo was similar to my gym pace, plus I got lost in his music accompaniment of mostly 1980s songs.
Bernadette gives a few pointers before the start of her class Gearing up for Forma EnduranceBernadette’s Forma Endurance proved challenging. I was gobsmacked that I was hard pressed to pulse my left leg which was bent at my back while in a seated position as I held the barre. It looked easy but reality was far from it. Bernadette was the strict one; her voice exuded that martinet schoolmarm vibe andshe was very particular about everyone following her instructions to the letter including where you should face for the non-barre exercises.
a reminder before and after entering the studio at Plana Forma Il TerrazzoI’m down to my last two Forma classes and I’ll be going back to my regular workout. It doesn’t mean that I’m eschewing what I’m taking home from my Forma classes. On the contrary, I’m stoked to continue as an autodidact thigh warrior and work on my goal: Be a strong, elegant thigh warrior.
FORMA CLASSES AT GLANCE*
Class
Pace
Movements
Benefits
Forma Core
moderate with timed high-intensity intervals
Pilates Principles of Isolation; isometric exercises
increased calorie burn; improved balance, control, posture, stability, and endurance (cardiovascular and muscular)
How does one start introducing something about herself? It begins with saying one’s name, I suppose. I’m called Rhissa by kith and kin, but other people call me Liana. Only one late grand aunt called me Liana – she was the only one who called me by that name until I left the Philippines and strangers automatically assumed that I’m called Liana simply because it’s the name that’s written first. It became tedious explaining why I had two names so I just let them call me Liana. Ex-lovers, meanwhile, called me “Hon”, “sayang”, “baby” and “sweetheart”. A former best friend called me Rhiss.
But what’s in a name? It’s a word that separates an individual from the rest. It rings hollow unless you get to spend a lot of time with that person. In my high school days, I was described, in our high school year book, “as someone who packs a mean wallop”. I was raised on the ideology of feminism, which rankled most of my classmates and teachers who lived their lives according to the word of the omnipotent being. It didn’t help either that I was free to choose my religion, which was absolutely unfathomable for most of them. My lack of religion became a big issue for the people around me. My classmates waged a war against me and refused to talk to me – they didn’t even look at me! My grade two teacher was of no help either. She freaked out when she found out that my religion was free thinker and interrogated me, asking me if I ate pork (I did at that time but not anymore) and celebrated Christmas (still do!). Those facts didn’t change her mind about me being, I suppose, an anti-Christ in her mind, and I became a marked student until I moved up to the next level.
Trained in the philosophy of “learning to be free” espoused by the late Doreen Gamboa, I wasn’t afraid to ask questions, talk to people, raise my voice in protest or agreement or was overwhelmed by the presence of the god on earth. I didn’t kowtow to anyone. This mindset helped me a lot in my college days where I walked, for the first two years, in the shadow of my father who wasn’t afraid to lock horns academically with his colleagues who happened to be my teachers. I wasn’t ruffled by the snide remarks uttered when their eyes landed on my last name during roll call. I breezed through their classes with flying colours except for my Shakespeare class because I dared to critique the bard who was her favourite author.
Some of my classmates in college thought I was tomboyish, which was worrying them to no end, because I was a soccer varsity player. Getting up at 5am, I was at the soccer field before 6am for training and off to class before 8am. My coach commended me for my tenacity and professionalism, and I’m certain he prayed then for my ball-handling skills to improve. I wasn’t bothered about what people thought about my passion for soccer. I was more concerned with the very visible sock marks I got after all the running and kicking under the sun. It took two years before the marks disappeared and I could wear flip-flops and sandals again in public.
Through the years other people asserted I was Muslim because I looked Malay. I was all the more seen as Muslim when they learned that I didn’t drink and didn’t eat pork, leading them, oddly enough, to pity me. But people are funny: some former colleagues also took to pitying me when they saw my work area flooded with sunshine. “You poor thing!” they would exclaim to which I would just smile and say, “I prefer the sun than the air-conditioning unit.”
How do I describe myself now? I feel that it’s my word against people I know. I’ve been marked as gregarious, which is true to a certain degree because when I’m in a good mood, I’m a social butterfly. Now when I say that I am shy, I am faced with laughter, giggles and looks of disbelief. Everyone is hard pressed to wrap their minds around the thought that I would rather remain in the background than take centre stage; that I get all anxious and uneasy in a large gathering filled with strangers; that I would rather flee into the night than speak before a crowd; and that I would rather sit quietly in a café with a book than attend a party.
I’ve also been described as sensitive and temperamental. I wonder if they read me my right. Am I really sensitive or are they desensitized? Am I really temperamental? Or are they too laidback to the point of being apathetic?
Amidst all readings of people about me, I know some facts about me are true. I write to carry on the family legacy of creative output. My father is an essayist-novelist- poet-critic; my mother is a journalist with more than 30 years of experience tucked under her belt; and my sister is a painter-illustrator. It's a cathartic process that keeps the mind alert and the soul light.
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