The Anti Cupcake Society during a workout session
Sarwar explains her philosophy on exercise is devoid of quick fixes. She doesn’t give a short timeline to attain unreasonable fitness goals which, in her opinion, is a dangerous thing and can cause greater physical and emotional damage. In some cases, women end up feeling not just unwell but miserable and insufficient.
“I have the responsibility to make people love what their bodies can do,” she says, “to be addicted to the feeling of strength, and then loving the aesthetic side-effects that inevitably come through.
For Sarwar, fitness is more than just burning calories and 100 burpee challenges.
“I am extremely attached to each of my ‘cupcakes’and I try to be more of a friend, as opposed to someone who counts their reps out loud,” she explains. “I’ve learnt that more than anything, more than feeling ‘fit’ or fitting into skinny jeans, people just want a safe space, love and a circle that will cheer them on no matter what. The ACS, I like to believe, is family.”
This explains the kind of revered loyalty visible in her Cupcakes. It also helps that Sarwar is very good at what she does and instinctively understands how a body responds to different exercises. She takes notice of the noises and creaks that emanate from different parts of the body mid-exercise, is quick to call you out if you’re slacking instead of pushing yourself, will adapt a particularly taxing exercise if she sees you struggling, will constantly remind you to establish the mind and muscle connection, and also help you stay hydrated throughout.
Becoming friends with one’s body, Sarwar clarifies, is a big part of her fitness mantra, and not to give up after a chocolate binge or a low-energy workout. “We always talk about how tomorrow is a new day; how we all have moments of weakness. It is okay to feel demotivated, as long as you recognise every failure is part of the process and you are bigger than a bad day. For now, the ACS is about the two things most worth celebrating — my girls and my memes.”
Creativity is a must when Sarwar draws up her daily plan which she believes helps motivate her brood. There’s a basic white board in almost every class that outlines the exercises of the day, with usually a play of words involved. And then the games follow.
Sarwar has created several games that make exercise fun. Usually, a few minutes in and you’re screaming and laughing at the same time, that is, if you can catch your breath, while Sarwar smirks deviously, from the middle of the battlefield. ‘Soreopoly’ is one such game the Cupcakes are particularly fond of — a board game in which every muscle is a winner, she explains. Each person rolls a dice which ends up on a particular exercise which all must complete. Things get serious when some group members suffer from a string of bad luck and end up rolling the same number, thereby repeating the same exercise on loop.
“Other than that, I also love Secret Banta — a pre-workout exercise that allows everyone in class to leave anonymous compliments for each other. Oh, and on Halloween, we had the Hallowlimpic Games which went down a storm!” she remarks.
Dissecting the Cupcakes is an interesting exercise. From the onset, you realise the ACS is an inclusive space for women belonging to different walks of life.
The ages of these women vary; at times you see teenagers walk in with a sparkle in their eyes and in the latest fitness gear. They have a lot of energy, which also tends to wane much quicker. Channelising their overwhelming zeal can be a challenge at times, reveals Sarwar.
Then there are the home-makers, those who wake up early morning for breakfast duty, and juggle carpool days so that their kids make it to school in time. Despite an early, chaotic start, the dedication of these women is inspiring. They eagerly look forward to turning up for an hour they claim exclusively as their own. But the safe space provided by the society does not merely extend to these mothers. At times, a much younger crowd is present, safely tucked away in a corner, fascinated by their mothers huffing and puffing, and peering to get a better look. Many a wall sit have been managed with a young toddler seated on his mother’s lap.
Of course, the professional women are not far behind in their dedication and perseverance; they are a bunch of go-getters who come together from a diverse range of careers. From photographers, teachers, businesswomen and entrepreneurs, ad executives, and even jewellery designers, the ACS has accumulated a colourful and eccentric amalgamation of personalities and professions.
The quiet ones and the loud-mouths work side by side. There is sometimes talk of a swear jar in lieu of the colourful language used during a particularly tiring regime; cussing is a given when the warm-up seems harder than the actual exercise. It is when her brood complains that Sarwar is at her happiest, because she knows she has pushed them out of their comfort zone.
Crediting her family that is “ridiculously silly but so free-flowing with its love” for being an inspiration, Sarwar passes on the same love and loyalty to her Cupcakes. But the lessons are never one-sided. “I can’t imagine my life without the ACS now. It is a community of crazy, wonderful women who teach me more about strength than I could ever teach them and I keep having moments where I’m like, ‘Wow, Amal, you got wildly lucky.’”
The driveway is an integral element of the ACS. “The driveway is part of my home, it is gritty and I don’t claim it to be the best in town. I know it is basic. But I also know that it represents rawness and heart, and that it will always be a safe space for people to connect with their bodies and emotions.”
It is on this driveway that nothing stands between you and the elements; the wind in your hair, your breathing spiked, the sound of your heart pumping loud and clear, and Sarwar’s familiar and dependable voice urging you not to give up. And for all that and more, the Cupcakes keep coming back.
The writer is a member of staff
Published in Dawn, EOS, September 30th, 2018