The Power of Vulnerability: How a Workout Class Taught Me a Profound Lesson

A short tale of growth, healing, and connection by turning a public mistake into a miracle.

Image by LA Times

My wife’s long been a devoted attendee of The Class, a music-driven workout that blends cardio, jumping, dancing, burpees, mindfulness, and techniques to process emotions – in fact, she considers it to be something like a religious experience. The LA Times calls it a “sweaty, emotional workout (and Goop-approved).” I’d been several times over the years and really enjoyed it, but, when I accompanied her to an LA studio a couple of weeks ago, I had no idea that something magical would transpire, albeit for completely unexpected reasons.

The second I stepped into the studio I was hit with electrifying energy. The music boomed, the workout was intense, and soon I was fully engaged in the challenge – everyone was. Then, just as we were approaching the apex of the class – a blast of burpees soundtracked by an especially intense and beat-driven song – just as the crescendo was about to engulf us all in endorphin-drenched euphoria, something happened. 

The Phone Call

The instructor's phone rang, abruptly interrupting the music playing from her phone through the sound system. It was the equivalent of an old-fashioned record scratch. Needless to say, when the music stopped, everyone faltered. In The Class, music is a powerful motivator to keep up with the exercises, and when it was gone, so was our energy to maintain the challenge. Most people stopped doing their burpees. The instructor frantically tried to silence her device but the phone kept on ringing. Surely putting your phone on ‘do not disturb’ is a simple part of the preparation checklist for guiding a class? We stood around in awkward and frustrated silence, while the instructor, visibly flustered, apologized and encouraged us to keep going. With no music playing, none of us did. 

Vulnerability Revealed

Finally, after the longest forty-five seconds one could imagine, the call ended and the music and workout resumed. I noticed judgments arising in my mind. I caught myself thinking things like,  “Wow, amateur hour!” And “Did she really expect us to keep going without the music?” and “I paid good money for this, I should be getting the best of the best!” Clearly, all of my ‘stuff’ around perfectionism was emerging. Being an outgoing guy trying to make things happen in the world, I have experienced my fair share of humiliation in front of groups. Now I was having strong feelings of shame and embarrassment coming to the forefront of my experience.

But then something magical happened. The instructor just said: “Wow. That really fucked me up.” As she spoke those six simple words, I felt a change go through the room. Sharing the emotional impact that the experience had on her captivated the entire class. Internally I flipped like a pancake – I noticed that in an instant my irritation and shame were transformed into sympathy, goodwill, and forgiveness. 

The Power of Connection

At that moment, the instructor's vulnerability became her strength. She’d owned her mistake and addressed her embarrassment in a humble, sincere confession. She apologized again and shared about her struggles with perfectionism. This openness sent a current of unity through the room. I was 100% in her corner after this. She could do no wrong. Wherever she was going, I would follow.

A Lesson Learned

Afterward, I realized that this particular class, led by this incredible instructor, was one of the best I’ve ever taken. By embracing her mistake, she’d transformed our experience into something beyond mere physical exertion. I learned an invaluable lesson: making big mistakes provides big opportunities for a deeper connection. The real test is not about having a perfect record, it’s about mustering the courage to meet these ‘ugly’ moments with acceptance and ownership. A mistake, no matter how ‘dumb’, is an opportunity to deepen your connection with others and yourself.