Sunday, November 23, 2008

Pontius Pilates

I went to my first pilates class last weekend. Went is misleading. I was coerced.

Want to know what a baby giraffe feels like fresh out of the womb room? Don't stretch or "listen to your breathing" for 27 years and then do a pilates class. All legs, covered in sweat, and with a look in your eyes like "what in the f@$k did I just get myself into?"

Pilates is like doing a 60 minute thighmaster session in front of your poker buddies, but somehow more shameful. It was hard to tell from all the "hipstacking" and "pelvic clocks" if I was working out or giving birth (note: if given the option, I'll take man birth over pilates).

Half way through our second set of starfish lifts I was praying that a construction crane would crash through the buildling and put me out of my misery. And if not me, at least badly wound that woman in the first row with that shit eating grin and her perfect form on the mermaid boxes. Some of us are beginners miss capri pants and 5k shirt! I have man parts that make scissor kicks and reverse seal rollovers mechanically arduous, not to mention reproductively harmful.

When it was finally over I would have run from the room, if there hadn't been a line to neatly stack my blanket, sponge blocks and stretching cord. I guess it wasn't all that bad though. Marcella treated us to fro-yo and Zimas afterwards. I hope next week we can do some scrapbooking.

She asked this guy to go to pilates first. Luck would have it, he was busy being a statue.

1 comment:

The House that James Built said...

now was this mat pilates class or on the reformer...? cause if it was mat, the reformer class would/will kick your ass even've been warned. i've never been able to drag james to a class...what did marcella promise you if you went?? i've tried everything...;)