A friend invited me last week to try the Pilates class at the local rec center with her. We both kind of didn’t feel like it when the time came, but we had made a plan, and we both honor our commitments! (Get a workout buddy!) I do yoga, and I walk regularly, but I know my “core” isn’t what it could be. I figured this would be a good thing for me to do.
Okay, seriously, Pilates is hard ya’ll. After about five minutes, my abs were really killing me. And then the instructor said, “Let’s move on to the ab work!”
Ummm…weren’t we just doing ab work?! I mean, my abs are working here! My abs are ready to clock out.
What made it all even worse is that I was probably the youngest person in the room. And I was having the most difficult time. I swear, there were women in their 70’s there kicking some Pilates ass. One of them did tell me after class that she’s been doing this class for 10 years, and that made me feel a little better. A little.
We did do some fun stuff using an exercise ball. I may even do some of it at home on my own. There was one move where we laid on our back and threw the ball in he air with our hands and caught it with our feet. I was shockingly good at this.
Anyway, the class was all hard and painful, and the next day was even more hard and painful. I haven’t quite decided whether it was awful in the sense of “this is exactly what I need to be doing” or in the sense of “my body isn’t made for this, and I should never do this again, ever.”
Oh pilates. I remember how in shape I was when I did my pilates video (at home where nobody heard me cry and swear) The hundred is the worst. I need to get one of those balls.
Oh pilates. I remmeber how in shape I was when I used my pilates exercise video. At home. Where nobody could hear me cry. The Hundred is the devil.