Kettlebells don't ring. But my quads are making some noise.

One weight, two weight,
Red weight, blue weight.

Look at those brightly colored tools of the fit-person's trade.

They're Suess-ish. Almost like toddler toys.

But kettlebells are not toddler toys. They're implements of hurt.

Their bright colors are a distraction - making nearby humans drop their guard. "Aw, look how cute the little guys are!"

Kettlebells are the fitness world's peacock. We're drawn in by the showy display, only to spend the next hour being chased around the zoo by an angry bird pecking at our legs.

Of course The Landing instructor John is the Master Of the kettlebell Puppets. And those of us in class are The Unforgiven. I'll recall The Unnamed Feeling Wherever I May Roam.

Apologies for all the Metallica song references - it's just that I've never been to a fitness class that had a heavy metal soundtrack. But John's class does. Besides, John doesn't seem to be an Enya-loving sort of instructor. He's goateed. And bald. And tattooed. And doesn't resemble Susan Powder (remember her?) in the least.

And the content of his kettlebell class includes kettlebell swinging, tossing and tapping. Of course there's plenty of squats, pushups and planks to fill in the gaps.

Kettlebells, see, aren't used in the same fashion as standard hand weights. Remember your gym teacher, coach or aerobics instructor admonishing you to not "cheat" by allowing momentum to move your weight? (ie, "Don't swing that 10-pounder to work your bicep. Bring it up sloooowly")

That ain't the case here. Momentum is your friend. Until you're on repetition number 58 and then momentum doesn't seem to be a friend at all.

I had a wee li'l 10-pound kettlebell. Teeny little guy he was. But I tell you what. After swinging and squatting with that softball-sized accoutrement of health, it might as well have been a watermelon. Or a Volkswagen.

I asked John if he'd ever been employed by the FBI for use in suspect interrogations. He said no. I think he was lying (FBI affiliates are trained to be sly like that).

This workout was tough - maybe even more intense than Zack's pushed-to-the-brink cardio pilates class.

Fellow Quester Alex (in the green hat) and I paired up for some band work. You can't really tell from this photo, but my expression is a solid mix of "help!" and "make it stop!" (Blame Jeff's sweat for clouding the lens.)

But as it goes with hearty workouts like this, I awoke this morning to a thorough soreness and pain that says "Ow...and hell yea, I done my muscles good."

Check The Landing website for kettlebell class schedule