Bellyfit embraces the emotional as well as the spiritual
By PENELOPE HAGAN-BRAUN
If you ask me, aerobics is for weenies.
When I think of aerobics, I envision my mother wearing shiny spandex tights in front of a large mirror on a frigid winter day, trying to work off five straight years of meat and childbearing. Desperation, in a word. So, naturally, I wasn't too excited about attending one of Alice Bracegirdle's much-lauded Bellyfit classes. Entering that grey cavern of a cardio room at the downtown Y, I felt cold and nervous and lumpy. Bracegirdle's down with that. "It's our culture," she says in response to my hesitation. "It's cold here, for one thing, and we just get locked up. Everybody's doing yoga and pilates, which is great, but it's all linear . . . the hips are not releasing."