As I walked into the gym, the preponderance of pink nearly blinded me. To my left was a bar serving Pink Ladies and Flirtinis; to my right, a room full of pink punching bags. Is this really a gym? I asked myself, but dismissed this only because of the word “fitness” on the sign above me and despite my reluctance, walked toward registration. “Hi, I’m here for the 7 p.m. pole class,” I said to the young woman at the counter. She smiled, handed me a pink token and directed me to a mirrored room with a dozen poles in it.The idea of “sexy fitness” started when Carmen Electra released an Aerobic Striptease instructional DVD in 2003. A year later, Teri Hatcher went on Oprah and raved about a unique but effective pole workout class, and a fad was born. In the past five years, pole-dancing exercise classes have popped up all over the Chicago area, and so I wondered: Why would some women pay $30 an hour for something others get paid to do? On a recent Saturday, I ventured to the west side of Chicago to Flirty Girl Fitness, a women’s only gym offering classes like “Lap Dancing,” “Video Vixen”and “Chair Striptease.” Waiting for my class to begin, my eyes darted around the gym and its frilly decor, looking for anything that might be in a normal gym; alas, none of that was in sight. Treadmills were replaced with poles, a sauna became a manicure station and weight machines turned into pink leather chairs. I felt out of my element, as I’m not exactly the kind of girl who dances on poles at the Keg. Finally, we were welcomed into the room. The women came in all sizes, shapes and ethnicities, outfitted in ordinary fitness attire minus the sneakers. Some women came for birthday celebrations, others came out of curiosity, and for some, it was a part of a daily routine.Our instructor dimmed the lights. “We are gonna be doing some sexy stuff in here so it’s got to be dark,” she said. On came Beyonce’s “Single Ladies,” and she started a warm-up not unlike a normal gym class that pretty much consisted of shaking our booty. I couldn’t help but laugh, and as I glanced around, women were giggling everywhere. We learned a choreographed routine using the pole as half prop and half stabilizer. Here I was, dancing like I was at a club, except the sketchy drunk guy was replaced by a stable (and clean) pole.It was pole time. Because it was a beginner’s lesson, we only learned the “Fireman’s Twist,” a trick that had us spinning down the pole as if rushing to a fire truck. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t easy; in fact, it was extraordinarily difficult, and by the end of class, I barely grasped the concept. As I bumped and grinded, I wondered who this girl in the mirror was. It sure as hell wasn’t me.That’s when it hit me; the class allowed me to unwind and be somebody different for an hour in an extremely comfortable atmosphere. By the end, I felt like I had a workout (kinda), and a few days later, I was still sore.I caught up with one woman who said she goes to classes every day, and lost 25 pounds in her first six months. “It was really the weight loss that has kept me coming back,” she says. “I used to run three miles and it didn’t work. Now I’ll go to two or three classes a day and I can still eat whatever I want.”With membership at $150 a month, I probably won’t find be at Flirty Girl in the future. The truth is, I am so glad I went. Pole dancing is empowering, a escape from dismal life at NU and I burned calories in the process.