Kettlebells should be referred to as kettleballs. They assume the shape of balls and do not ring like bells. I currently, and will continue to, refer to them and kettleballs. It is best you deal.
Anywho, today I was supposed writing up a standard review Studio F3’s kettlebell class located in Dupont Circle. I’ve wanted to work with kettleballs for quite some time and was elated to find a Groupon offering four hour long sessions for $29. My excitement waned when I realized how difficult the website was to navigate and couldn’t figure out how to book my first session. I was determined though and called directly to the facility and left a voicemail asking to be scheduled an appointment. I waited as patiently as I could stand and called back to leave another message. Then I waited some and directed my friend Ryan, who I forced gently encouraged to purchase the Groupon with me, to call and he left a message.
NO ONE CALLED US BACK!
So the next day I put on my angry pants ready to curse and threaten, but then the owner answered the phone and he was super kind and he showed me how I was using the website wrong and apologized profusely for not returning calls (he was overwhelmed with the Groupon). By the end of the conversation I found myself apologizing and didn’t even curse.
However, my angry pants were not worn in vain. My friend and I couldn’t schedule the mandatory intro class for 3 whole weeks! We were determined and decided that we’d schedule the class because we were sure that kettleballs would turn us into naked sex machines.
Our day finally arrived and we headed off to Dupont to start the naked sex machine transformation. Ryan yelled about the heat, traffic was unbearable, we almost hit a family of four and we were nearly 20 minutes late for the class start time. The location was difficult to find and parking sucked. We finally found the address only to discover that it was a dilapidated apartment complex. We slipped into the building with some other visitors who were buzzed in and approached the front desk staffer who resembled the crypt keeper. She told us that the class was in the basement and pointed us towards a hallway that featured dim lighting, slash marks in the carpet and broken steps. Ryan and I made the executive decision to avoid what we were sure was dungeon containing a murderer and high tailed it out of there.
So now I have no review, an unredeemed Groupon, we’re not naked sex machines and I’m still on the hunt for a decent kettleball class.