The Best Barry's Bootcamp Review You'll Ever Read

By Cleobetchra

If you follow celebrities with as much gusto as I do, you’d be aware that they are all obsessed with Barry’s Bootcamp: “the best workout in the world.” The company actually trademarked it. Obviously I had to try it, so my moron friend and I hauled our asses to Barry’s at 9:45am New Years day like the raging idiots we are. Here’s a review:

9:35am - Stop at CVS and get Advil and water. Take three Advil, consider a fourth.

9:39am - Arrive at Barry's, hungover AF. Monsoon of 30-somethings who 100% stayed in the night before pour out of the room and mob the juice bar in an overtly aggressive way.

9:40am - Check in at the front desk, realize I just willingly paid $30 to put myself through hell. Attendant tells me I’ll be on “tred 3,” whatever that means.

9:44 am - Enter room solely lit by dark, red bulbs, not unlike those you’d find at a Metallica concert or S&M themed night club. The instructor, a body builder with a Justin Bieber earpiece microphone, directs me to “tred 3,” which turns out to be a treadmill, after a mandatory high five. Everyone around me starts running.

9:45 am - I apprehensively begin to jog. "Get Ur Freak On" by Missy Elliot begins to play. I think: Jesus Christ.

9:49 am - The instructor screams “SURGE" while doing laps up and down the room clapping. Everyone starts sprinting at speeds 9 or 10. I take my “tred” up to a 6.

9:53 am - I am told to switch to the floor, where I am instructed to get weights and a band. The Instructor then demonstrates some arm band exercise. Everyone nods and instantly begins doing something completely different. I remain immobile.

10:01 am - Back to the “tred.” Small woman with disproportionately strong arms asks me if I’ve ever been to Barry’s before, to which I respond: “no.” I squint to see her face because the room is completely dark. She proceeds to laugh knowingly and adjust my “tred” to dynamic mode. Justin Bieber informs me that I will be “pushing it like a sled.” I wonder what I’ll be pushing and why the fuck am I here.

10:02 am - I want to vomit.

10:11 am - My sweat soaks through the t-shirt I wore to bed the night before. The man in a hat next to me, however, is sweating more. I wonder if he is able to see anything with the dark light and his stupid hat. I wonder if he is blind.

10:16 am - Faces wince in red-lit agony as Justin Bieber walks around calling people out by name. I lay motionless on the mat for long stretches of time. “KEEP IT UP,” he screams. His blood vessels bulge.

10:24 am - I go back to the tred and black out.

10:33 am - I switch back to the floor for the last round of hell. Sweat is all over my body and I wonder if just maybe I am a human Gatorade commercial because I sure AF look like one.

10:40am - Class ends. Justin instructs us to stretch and starts playing "Remember The Name" and I wonder what percent of him is serious.

10:45am - I admit it was an effective, if not horrific and disgusting workout, and physically drag myself to the nearest Starbucks.


Barry's is a sweat fest. The music is loud. The room is burnt tomato red for no apparent reason. People are really into it, and dare I say too into it. I doubt I burned 1000 calories as they advertise, which is really no one's fault but my own. Happy New Year, fit freaks.




Powered by Disqus




Forgot Your Password?

Create new account

User login