The Red-Room Shock
McRae ticks off a brutal circuit: strength training, treadmill work, Pilates, ballet, and recovery. She has called Barry’s “the worst workout of all time,” yet she keeps returning. The writer who tested her schedule for a week started at a Barry’s studio in a room bathed in red light. The class is a four-part rotation: two ten-minute treadmill blocks for speed and hills, two ten-minute floor blocks for arms and abs. The move that humbled the writer paired dumbbell curls with legs hovering off the bench—spicy, as they say. Instructor Holly cued two groups at once, effortlessly weaving dog jokes into her Jersey patter. Despite McRae’s verdict, the writer left buzzing. The intensity felt like a shot of espresso for the rest of the week.
Tour-Bus Hardware and Sled Pushes
Next, the writer mimicked McRae’s gym days at her preferred invite-only spot, Alo Gym, by borrowing equipment from Alpha Fit Club. Coach Nicole helped the writer snap a resistance band into place without knocking herself out. The writer ran through band work, dumbbell bench presses, body-weight squats, and lunges — nothing flashy, but enough to make her legs complain. This is the kind of gear that fits on a tour bus. By Thursday, the writer returned for functional conditioning with Coach Grant, who didn’t let her cut corners. He had her pushing and pulling sleds across the turf, grinding through kettlebell squats and lunges, and rowing on the SkiErg until her legs barked. The point is to train movements that carry over into real life, building a body that can perform for hours on stage without crumbling.
The Reformer Humbles a Marathoner
McRae has dragged Jake Shane and Glen Powell into Pilates, and Powell has publicly credited the duo for his action-star shape. Glen did not return the writer’s calls, so the writer recruited her friend Katie. The writer’s first rookie move was climbing onto the reformer backward; the instructor corrected her with a tank that read “Peace. Pinot. Pilates.” Every movement was slow, controlled, and absurdly difficult. The class used small balls and rings to fire up tiny muscle groups with pulsing movements. Next to them, a woman eight weeks postpartum was crushing every rep. Katie and the writer exchanged silent “this is hard” looks. The reformer work woke up muscles she had been ignoring for twenty-nine marathons and two Ironmans. It’s the kind of session that doesn’t just build strength; it forces you to pay attention to your own body in a way that running on autopilot never does.
Ballet Class With a No-Nonsense Teacher
The one workout the writer could not fake was ballet. McRae trained at the School of Alberta Ballet and competed on So You Think You Can Dance, where Paula Abdul told her, “You are a gift from God.” The writer, on the other hand, dances like she’s doing an Irish jig. The writer walked into a True Adult Beginner Ballet class, where lithe women in leotards and leg warmers made her consider a sprint for the door. The instructor asked for her shoe size, then called to the front desk, “Find the biggest ones we’ve got.” The 90-minute class mostly took place at the barre, with about 15 minutes moving across the floor. She tsk-tsked the regulars with gems like “Sheila doesn’t know what any of this means, and even she’s doing it right,” and later, “this time, maybe don’t land like elephants.” The writer loved her. The bunheads clapped for the writer when she got a step right. The writer walked out feeling longer, taller, and proud.
Treadmill Comfort and a Sauna Finish
By Saturday, the writer was ready to reunite with her treadmill. McRae does her cardio at home on one, per Women’s Health, so the writer re-created Monday’s running segments: speed intervals with hill work and short recoveries. Her calves and Achilles were screaming from ballet, but coming back to her own routine somehow felt like fresh legs. The week of work had made her stronger. On Sunday, she rested, as McRae does with sauna and ice baths. The writer kept it low-key: a session in the sauna at her local YMCA. The full week cracked her routine wide open — Barry’s revved her engine, Pilates woke up forgotten muscles, ballet demanded balance she did not have, and gym days laid the base for a job that requires singing and dancing for two hours a night. Mad respect to McRae and every performer who asks that of their body onstage. Athletes, all of you.
