I was holding onto the barre, trying to keep my heels together in first position, but my legs were shaking. This wasn’t supposed to be so hard — especially for someone like me who regularly works out — but it felt like a total reach.
The Barrelates class at FOLM, a new studio that opened in September 2025 in Melrose Hill, blends barre and Pilates into a slow-burn flow designed for low-energy days. I was a few days from my period and even getting off my couch seemed like a stretch. Two other women moved quietly beside me, nobody chatting, all of us seemingly running on fumes. On the way in, I had seen women in the reformer room chatting animatedly as they packed up. Even that seemed exhausting.
At my old gym, a scrappy Muay Thai spot that has since closed, the trainers saw me on my best days and my worst. Some weeks I’d walk in and destroy everyone in sparring. Other weeks I couldn’t do a push-up on my knees. The coaches didn’t know the difference (which, fair, I wasn’t updating them on my cycle) — they just yelled at me to go harder. I’d push through, wondering why I was so lazy, so inconsistent, so weak.
It wasn’t until my late 30s, after I changed my birth control and started getting regular periods for the first time in years, that I started paying close attention to my body’s signals. The week I wanted a burger, I got the burger. The day I felt too depleted for kickboxing, I took a walk instead. I stopped fighting my body and started listening to it.
Malloy Moseley relaxes inside FOLM’s infrared sauna.
FOLM is built around this idea. The name stands for follicular, ovulation, luteal and menstrual — the four phases of the menstrual cycle — and the class schedule offers different intensities throughout the day so women can choose based on where they are hormonally. Circuit training and power reformer for high-energy days. Barrelates and classical Pilates for when you’re running on empty.
Two weeks later, I returned for the reformer class. This time, the room felt like a party. I’m something of a Pilates connoisseur, and the class hit all the familiar beats, challenging and satisfying. Afterward, two women made plans to hit a farmers market and grab coffee. Three others beelined toward the infrared sauna. I checked my phone and remembered I had a full day ahead, and the energy to tackle it. The workout felt almost incidental.
The cycle syncing trend is rising. But is it backed by science?
FOLM is part of a growing conversation around “cycle syncing,” the practice of tailoring exercise, diet and lifestyle to the hormonal shifts of the menstrual cycle. On social media, the concept has exploded, and the language of hormonal phases has entered everyday conversation. The science, though, is still catching up.
Instructor and co-founder Cindy Gomez, center, leads a reformer-based class.FOLM student, above. Micaela Ricca, exercises in the weight room studio designed with a blend of barre, mat and circuit training, below.
“Reproductive-age women from puberty to menopause have significant cyclic changes in their sex hormones during the course of their menstrual cycle,” says Dr. Kacey M. Hamilton, a complex benign gynecologist at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. These hormonal shifts affect more than just the reproductive system — they influence mood, digestion and potentially injury risk. Hamilton points to research on female athletes that found higher rates of ligament injuries at certain points in the cycle, likely linked to estrogen’s effects on connective tissue.
But Hamilton stops short of endorsing cycle-based fitness programs. “There’s never been any literature that said, hey, women who follow cycle thinking have better strength outcomes or have more energy,” she says. “None of it has outcomes data to support it thus far.”
Her concern is over complication. “Lifestyle changes and healthy lifestyle choices are difficult for all of us,” she says. Hamilton worries that if a woman believes she should rest for two weeks out of the month, she might miss the resistance training crucial for bone health and longevity.
Co-founders Anna Collins, left, and Cindy Gomez at FOLM fitness studio.
A “recovery womb,” hormone-balancing snacks and lots of hormone talk
The founders of FOLM, Anna Collins, 30, and Cindy Gomez, 35, say they’re not asking anyone to skip workouts. Both came to cycle syncing through experience. Collins noticed her ballet pirouettes suffered during her luteal phase; Gomez saw women pushing through heated Pilates classes until they nearly passed out. “After class, we’d ask, ‘When was your last period?’’ Gomez said. “And they’d be like, ‘Oh yeah, I’m supposed to get it tomorrow.’ It’s like, OK, maybe you shouldn’t be doing HIIT in 100-degree heat.”
The studio also offers what the founders call “the recovery womb.” An infrared sauna that fits five and runs 20-minute sessions. Unlike traditional saunas, infrared heats you from within, and the founders recommend going in after class when you’re already warm so you sweat more effectively. (Though they suggest skipping it when you’re actually bleeding, since you’re already depleted.)
There is also a vibration plate that, Collins and Gomez say, can help with lymphatic drainage before or after class. There’s bone broth and seed-cycling cookies, both made in-house by Gomez, who is a certified nutrition health coach, with seeds meant to support hormone balance at different phases. In January, a cycle coach joins the team to lead workshops on syncing not just workouts but nutrition, creativity — even finances — to the menstrual cycle.
At FOLM, nothing is mandatory. “We want our clients to be listening to what their body is telling them,” Gomez says. “Even during your luteal phase, if you take the lighter class, you’re still challenging yourself.”
Hamilton sees value in this body awareness. “My favorite thing about the current online conversation is that it’s getting people familiar with their cycle,” she says. A few years ago, her patients rarely knew the difference between follicular and luteal phases. Now they talk hormones fluently. “Information is so powerful.”
FOLM is also women-only, welcoming anyone who identifies as a woman or nonbinary. The founders expected pushback but say it hasn’t come. “I’ve been teaching for years, and I see a huge difference in how women feel here,” Collins says.
Whether this approach delivers measurable fitness results remains unproven. But that Barrelates class — hard, but not too hard — was exactly what I needed on a day I almost didn’t show up. The idea behind the Barrelates class, Collins says, is that you’re never not moving, so the flow keeps your mind on the physical rather than whatever is happening emotionally. After the reformer class two weeks later, I had energy to spare. Next time, maybe I’ll try Barrelates when both my body and mind are showing up.
This story originally appeared on LA Times
