I’ve always wanted to be someone who runs — for fun. I tried it for a good month culminating in a recent half-hearted 5K in the pouring rain that I miserably walked through. Since then, I’ve sworn off running. However, when I spoke with Chris Hoffman, the founder of Formula Running Center in Clarendon, he told me that his new running center, isn’t just for pro runners. It’s for beginners, too. Hoffman claims there’s no running center in the D.C. area like it that offers not only group classes, but recovery classes, as well. 

The Clarendon center differs from Pacers Running or the November Project. It isn’t a running group, but rather a series of classes that include strength and endurance training, as well as wellness offerings, such as yoga and an on-site nutritionist. Most classes cost about $30, and are available for purchase in memberships or class packages. 

Hoffman frames every class as specifically tailored to making runners more successful. He said he expects most of the clientele to be novices or people who have never run. So basically: me. That’s why I decided to check out a Formula 101 class (that was provided to me for free) on opening weekend.

9:25 a.m.: The irony isn’t lost on me that I’m out of breath after several minutes of attempting to parallel park in Clarendon before running to the front doors of Formula Running Center. Once inside, it looks like any boutique fitness studio with a friendly desk attendant and electronic lockers. There’s a water fountain; a small kitchen with bananas, granola bars and a Keurig; and multiple racks of fresh towels.

9:30 a.m.: The door to the studio opens and the instructor bounds out excitedly. Six of us follow her into a large rectangular room lined with treadmills. On the other side of the wall are weights, exercise balls, and kettlebells. On one wall, I notice there’s a timer counting down from one hour.

9:32 a.m: Our instructor introduces herself as Kate Marden and explains that she is a runner herself. She leads us through a few minutes of stretching in the middle of the floor. The space reminds me of the Balance Gym I attend with the open mat floor surrounded by machines, but the equipment here is clearly new and organized. The air also smells clean and like new rubber as opposed to sweaty and stale. Kate instructs us all to pick a treadmill.

9:40 a.m.: Kate points out a small chart on the treadmill with four levels with increasing difficulty, starting from a “conversational pace,” a.k.a., a light jog, to a “anaerobic pace,” or a sprint. We start with a conversational pace and I notice that the treads have a bit more traction and are more comfortable than the rickety tread on the machine in my apartment gym.

9:43 a.m.: Kate says she makes it a point to learn everyone’s name and goes down the line of treadmills asking before asking everyone why they came to class today.

9:44 a.m.: One man in my class says he loves running and the woman next to him says she is training for a race. Oh no. I’m sweating and not just because I’m lightly jogging, but because she’s about to ask me why I came today. What do I say? Do I lie and say that I’m actually a runner just because everyone else is?

9:45 a.m.: “I’m working on an article about this place!” I blurt out before Kate can finish asking. There’s a beat of silence and then she nods. “Cool, are you having fun?” Sweat dripping down my face, I nod.

9:48 a.m.: Katehas us boost our treadmill up to level three, so we’re sprinting. She promises we will only do these sprinting intervals for two minutes each before switching back to our conversational pace, for a total of three rounds.

9:49 a.m.: Two minutes is nothing when you’re doing literally anything else except running. Within the first minute, I’m out of breath and my legs start to itch. I wish the lights were off so no one could see me—a lot of cycling or pilates studios tend to have low lighting, but it’s probably unsafe to run in the dark.

9:50 a.m.: I keep side-eyeing the countdown clock. The benefit of being honest about my running level and having a small class is that Kate is individually able to suggest a pace on the treadmill that’s doable—albeit tough—for my level. Sure, the woman two treadmills away from me is sprinting twice as quickly as me, but she’s training for a half-marathon, right?

9:53 a.m.: Between sprinting intervals, Kate asks everyone to rate with their fingers how they’re feeling with five being the worst. Everyone puts up all five fingers. She instructs us to relax our shoulders and avoid leaning too much into the treadmill as we run. Already, my neck feels a bit achy, so I straighten up.

10:00 a.m.: I just want the sprints to end—not only because is my chest on fire, but because the granola bar I ate in the car is swimming in my belly. I try to focus on something else and realize that this entire time, a Lady Gaga playlist has been playing. However, unlike gyms I’ve been to before, it plays like elevator music—faint and in the background, as opposed to blaring overhead.

10:06 a.m.: We’re finally done with interval sprints, but there’s at least 15 minutes of running left, according to the countdown clock. When I put my towel to my head, it’s slick with sweat which surprises me. I’m normally a cycling or barre class kind of girl where there’s often a lull in the class. Not with Kate. Kate says it’s endurance training time.

10:08 a.m.: After a couple minutes of light jogging, Kate has us set our treadmill at a sharp incline and increase our speed a touch. During the two minutes she has us running uphill, she tells us to focus on maintaining a constant speed instead of going fast. “You can even walk if you need,” she says, which I do because running uphill leaves me out of breath. Thankfully, another woman is walking so I try to copy her pace.

10:10 a.m.: Whereas when I was sprinting and the front of my legs were on fire, now I can feel an ache in the backs of my calves and thighs. At this point, my legs are trembling and I can’t stop watching the clock.

10:14 a.m.: We move through three rounds of a couple of minutes of running uphill followed by a couple of minutes of light jogging without the incline. All the while, Kate asks us to imagine running up a hill towards the finish line. “Or you can make your mind go blank,” she suggests. “Focus on the trees outside. Don’t watch the clock.” I peel my eyes away from the countdown clock and try to look at the blank wall. Six minutes left.

10:18 a.m.: The stomach cramps and breathlessness I’d experienced earlier in the class have begun to fade, but they’re replaced by aches in my legs. Is that what shin splints are? I think nervously and then try to put the thought out of my mind to avoid further increasing my heart rate.

10:20 a.m.: We have less than a minute left. I toggle the screen on my treadmill and see that I’ve burned more than 350 calories and sideways glance at the woman on the treadmill next to me where she’s burned at least 400 calories. “The finish line is right in front of you! All your friends and family are cheering for you!” Kate tells us. I try to imagine it. My body is on fire and still very itchy (note to self: ask runners why your legs get itchy as you run) but, finally, Kate is counting down five seconds left. And we’re done.

10:25 a.m.: After a walking cooldown, Kate has us wipe down each machine with wet wipes and then join her for a stretch on the floor.

10:30 a.m.: Before sending us off, Kate explains that there’s a yoga studio next door to this room with foam rollers available. She also says that her kind of class won’t be the only one offered. “We’ll have yoga classes available,” she says and adds that other classes will focus on foam rolling and stretching. She also says that some days of the running class will focus more on sprinting or more on endurance.

10:35 a.m.: As I’m hobbling out, another instructor asks if I enjoyed it. I tell him I’m not a runner and typically prefer strength training classes, so he tells me that the class he teaches is a mix of running and strength training on the floor that targets the legs, core, and butt. “That might be more your speed,” he says.

10:40 a.m.: Back in my car, I wonder if this kind of class could make me a runner. I’m thankful that, unlike in an outdoor running group, I wasn’t left behind and a trainer could talk me through how to improve. But running straight for 50 minutes? That might make me a better runner, but not someone who loves running. I put the address to Bethesda Bagels in my GPS and get going.

This story has been updated to correct Kate Marden’s name.

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