Low-friction fitness fun

By Janet Cromley
Los Angeles Times
After stepping and lunging my way through the 1990s, I experienced an epiphany. I could not do one more squat to Sir Mix-A-Lot or C & amp;C Music Factory. I did not want to Fight the Power and I did not want to Shake My Bon-Bon. So I traded in my spandex for hiking boots and never looked back. Until now.
Lately I've found that light weekend hiking, though good for the soul, hasn't been as kind to the rest of me. It also doesn't provide the sweaty camaraderie of organized classes.
It was time to return to the gym -- but not to the same old cardio grind. Enter Gliding discs.
The Frisbee-ish plates, which slide across the floor like skimpy saucer sleds, replace abrupt, high-impact movements with graceful, fluid motions that are easy to follow. Controlling the movements offers a workout for the torso, as well as the limbs performing the movements.
Introduced at the IDEA international fitness conference in July 2004, the discs have been gaining popularity in the United States and Europe, appearing in a growing number of fitness centers and popping up in large retail stores.
Standing with the balls of your feet on the 9-inch discs and your heels on the ground, you can perform almost any exercise with the grace of Mikhail Baryshnikov and the panache of Fred Astaire. At least that's the general idea.
Even better, the system can accommodate all levels of fitness -- including rank beginners. I was in.
Getting started
Crunch Los Angeles instructor Marc Montemerlo has been teaching a discs class for about three months. At the beginning of a recent afternoon session, he was practically vibrating with enthusiasm as he pulled out the discs and took inventory of the class.
It didn't take long. Normally the class is fairly large, he said, but on this afternoon, during the holiday shopping rush, most people apparently had better things to do than slide around a gym floor. It was just me and two other self-described beginners.
We each took a body bar -- a 4-foot, rubber-coated, slightly weighted steel bar commonly used for sculpting and toning -- and placed it in front of us like a walking stick. We were to use it throughout the class to stabilize our movements and, barbell style, to work the upper body.
We got the feel of the disc by rotating it underfoot as if stamping out a cigarette, then slowly working it from side to side. In an age of shiny chrome machines, the discs were decidedly low-tech in appearance -- nylon-covered plastic, about the depth of a dinner plate.
Sophisticated series
Satisfied that we'd gotten the hang of the basic moves, Montemerlo grinned, cranked up the techno-pop music and looked around the room.
"Two words," he said. "Good luck."
He began slowly, leading us through a series of gliding moves, with one foot stationary and the other gliding sideways, then back to the stationary foot. To the gym regulars doing circuit training behind our glassed-in workout room, it probably looked like a bad hokeypokey -- one foot in, one foot out.
The music was fast but steady as Montemerlo eased into more-advanced moves, sliding one leg to the side, heel first, then quickly rotating his ankle and sliding his foot back behind him, then to the front. His arms gracefully followed the lines of this trajectory, like a speed skater.
Serious workout
I already was sweating profusely, working quads, hip flexors and biceps, trying to keep my balance and hoping that we were not still in the warm-up. Then we moved to squats, using the bar for balance as we squatted, stood and slid one foot out, then the other in rapid succession, following the rapid beat of the music.
Montemerlo next led us through a series of modified backward lunges, one leg planted, the other sliding backward in a controlled motion. Again, his arm moved in line with his body, in this case, like a cross-country skier. By then, my legs and arms were burning.
"Squat, rotate, slide. Squat, rotate, slide," he exhorted. "Compress down. Rotate. Hold it. Push out, pull in. Reach back. Press, pull. Press, pull."
In addition to being used for balletlike movements, the discs can be worked from side to side to mimic the motion of a surfboard or snowboard. And in fact, Crunch's winter gliding course -- sometimes called "blading" -- will include moves that mirror those of snow skis.
We were huffing and puffing as we hit the mats. Lying with our backs on the mat, knees bent and feet flat on the floor, we scooted the discs under our heels. The arrangement enabled us to push down on our feet, lift up our torsos and slide our feet forward for intense leg and thigh presses. Then we rolled onto our stomachs, arms outstretched, palms down on the discs, and slid the discs toward our heads, for intense push-ups.
The other students were dutifully pushing upward to get the full push-up workout, but I elected to stay flat, sliding the discs overhead like a belly-down snow angel, achieving a nice, gentle stretch. It may have been cheating, but it felt great.
Finally, Montemerlo led us through a cool down, and after a few welcome stretches, our gliding class was over.
One of the students, journalist Aigi Vahing, inhaled deeply and wiped her brow. Vahing works out at the gym three or four days a week and wanted to try something different.
"It's a good workout and a nice change," she said, adding that she was impressed by the exertion required.
Keeping exercise interesting
Although some clubs offer pure gliding classes, the discs are more often used to supplement standard exercise classes.
Kendell Hogan, the group fitness coordinator at Crunch, is incorporating the discs into sculpting and abs classes. Montemerlo put it in perspective: "This is one tool among many, such as fitness rings and medicine balls, to keep our workouts interesting."
Interesting is one way of putting it. I felt more like an aerobics flunky with balance issues than Fred Astaire. But the workout was surprisingly strenuous, with a strong cardio component. I was sore before the class was even over and walked stiff-legged back to my car.
"You'll thank me for this day after tomorrow when you see the results," Montemerlo hooted after us.
I can't say I saw the immediate results he promised, but the class was fun -- and I didn't have to fight the power or shake my bon-bon.