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“Here’s what happened when I worked out with Madonna’s personal trainer.”

Mamamia logo Mamamia 12/04/2016 Zoe Rochford
Madonna teaches a fitness class. © Kevin Mazur/ Getty Images Madonna teaches a fitness class.

Breaking news: I know why Madonna ran three hours late to her Melbourne concert.

She wasn’t engaging in any untoward behaviour. She’s not an alcoholic, and she’s not on the verge of a breakdown. It wasn’t sex, it wasn’t drugs, and it wasn’t rock’n’roll.

She was just having a nap.

Because she’s really goddamn tired.

How do I know, you ask? Well, I did a workout with her personal trainer, and it was the single most exhausting thing that has ever happened to me.

I’ll admit, I had low hopes going in. The thing is, Madonna and I aren’t really on the same page when it comes to fitness.

And by that, I mean that Madonna is often photographed for the fitness pages of magazines, and I sometimes eat cake and drop crumbs onto the pages of those magazines.

Because Madonna has such an iconic body, it’s safe to assume her workouts are outrageously difficult.

But it turns out that there’s a difference between thinking about Madonna working out, which is quite fun while you’re eating cake, and actually doing Madonna’s workout, which does not mix well with a full stomach of cake.

A lesson I learned the hard way by vomiting twice inside my mouth during the session.

Madonna’s workout, I learned on arrival, is comprised of dance-y, aerobic-y, cardio type things (not the technical term).

It is done at full volume to songs like Kelis’ Milkshake. Everyone at the session was super hyped up and the instructors, the lovely Craig Smith and Maryln Oritz, encouraged everyone to scream and whoop at regular intervals.

I know, I know. It sounds really great and you want to do it right now.

The thing is, though, Madonna’s workout is actually impossible. It’s simply got too much exercise in it. I reached peak exhaustion about four minutes in to the hour-long session.

From that point onwards, I merely subsisted in a sort of stumbling twilight zone.

Blinded by exhaustion, terrified my legs would simply give way, convinced I was about to collapse onto the floor into nothing but a puddle of sweat and the purple Lorna Jane sports bra I purchased for the occasion. Just so people would think exercise was something I had done before.

Throwback to yesterday when I tried to be Madonna but just died instead.

A photo posted by Zoe Rochford (@zrochford) on


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