No, I have not abandoned my blog. I have, however, been suffering from a
serious case of the lazies the last couple of weeks. A combination of idleness, a touch of
melancholy that always accompanies my birthday and a dab of writer’s block
thrown in the mix and the result: no
blog for the last two weeks. But, as
with most things, this too passed and I feel ready to get back on track
again.
When I wrote my previous blog, I was about to
attend my first Pilates class. I have
now been for three classes; so I thought I’d give you some feedback. Brace yourselves…
Pilates, for those unfamiliar with it, is an
exercise regime coupled with proper breathing methods developed in Germany in
the early twentieth century by (the devil?) Joseph Pilates. Its main aim is to improve flexibility and
muscle strength, with emphasis on spinal and pelvic alignment. It also (allegedly)
teaches efficient breathing methods and helps to develop a strong core, while
improving balance and co-ordination.
Well…
I have mentioned our trainer, Rima, in previous
blogs about aqua aerobics. This tiny, Canadian-Jordanian
woman with her serious no-nonsense attitude, sports an eight pack instead of a
sixer and has arms and legs that look so strong and toned, nuts probably crack
themselves when they see her coming.
During my first training session she started the
class off very gently with warm-up exercises, then gradually progressed to
slightly more difficult levels, but I am happy to say that I managed to keep up
(for the most part) to the rest of
the much more advanced class.
My main aims for the first class, other than not to
die, was to not fall over and not, I repeat, not to fart **blush**.
Absolutely ecstatic to report that I did neither! So far so good…
I was totally amazed at what my unfit body could do, and upset with what it simply
would not do. The night before the class
I thought I’d prepare and tried to do push-ups.
If TVoR did not help me up, I would probably still be lying flat on the
carpet, laughing my head off. I
absolutely could not get my body up from the carpet! However, during the class and after a series
of maneuvers designed to make grown men weep, I managed to successfully move
into Downward Dog and then into a full Plank position, which I managed to
hold for a full fifteen seconds.
Success!
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| Downward Dog |
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| Full Plank |
After the first hour-long “mild” introduction session
I hobbled home, happy to be alive, delighted that I did not embarrass myself
too much. By nightfall, every single
muscle in my body hurt. I poked at my poor,
pain-ridden body and everywhere I touched ached, so much so that I started to
suspect that I might have broken my forefinger.
Nope, no broken finger, just tender, aching, complaining, weary muscles
that have not been used in… forever, it seems.
Even my hair hurt.
Judging by my super sore muscles, I decided that
there had to be something to this
Pilates-thing, so I promptly signed up for two classes a week. Now, three sessions in, I am starting to
doubt the wisdom of my decision.
The second class arrived and lo-and-behold, no more
Mrs. Nice Guy Rima! Playtime (!) was
over for me and she proceeded putting our little group of five grunting women
through our paces. It is fascinating how
the body can move into the most impossible positions without falling over. As stated before, I could not do push-ups “from scratch” but, brimming with confidence after the success of my first class and following the different movements and breathing techniques, next thing I was
aware of, I again found myself in a full Plank, balancing my body weight on the tips
of my toes and my fists! How did this happen?
The second class also introduced some items
probably designed way back during the Spanish Inquisition, like the
innocent-looking resistance dual grip fitness ring. While lying on you back, you place the ring between
your ankles; raise your legs to the skies and then the real problems
start. From this position, with your
feet and shoulders never touching the ground, you do sit-ups, stomach crunches
and leg exercises until your ears start to zing and you start seeing your
long-dead Grandma waving at you from the Other Side. The other ladies seemed fine and reported no
Grammy sightings after the class, so maybe it was just me?
Note to self:
learn how to breathe correctly! I
inhale when she says exhale, I exhale when she says hold your breath, I
completely forget to breathe at times, concentrating completely on staying
alive and breathing becomes an optional extra.
I have been sitting here all morning, breathing. So, by the next class on Sunday, I should be
an expert. I think tonight I’ll ask TVoR
to quiz me by shouting breathing orders haha!
Arrived at yesterday’s class, full of the joys of
life, only to discover that Satan, eh, sorry… Rima, have decided to introduce yet another torture device to the
routine: The Giant Rubber Band. Rubber band. Fun, right? Not so much.
While twisted into various positions resembling a flopped pretzel, you
use the rubber band to stretch and balance.
My aim for yesterday’s class:
Don’t take an eye out with that darn rubber band!
Much to my (secret)
delight, while balancing on left legs and right arms, left arms stretched forward,
right legs stretching the rubber bands behind us in the air, one of the “veterans” lost control of her rubber
band and it shot clear across the room with a loud TWAINGGGG! The poor woman was so shocked that she
promptly fell over, which of course almost proved too much for my wicked sense
of humour. My Mom will be so proud: I managed to not laugh out loud, but it did
have me giggling for quite some time after the class. Thank Goodness it happened to her and not me,
although I suspect it is only a matter of time, given the laws of Karma and
all…
I am rather scared of attending this coming
Sunday’s class. There are still many
innocent looking devices and some not-so-innocent ones lurking in the corners
of the studio. Be afraid. Be very afraid…
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| It looks innocent enough, doesn't it? |
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| I can only imagine that these two machines also would involve whips and chains. So far, we haven't used these "stretchers" yet, but I know it is only a matter of time. |
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| Put me on one of these machines and I'll confess to anything and everything within a matter of seconds! |
