So last night I went to a Pilates class. Moch is desperate for me to join the gym and I have always wanted to try Pilates after a brief love affair with Yoga that ended most acrimoniously when the Yogi tried to cleanse my chacra and got a nasty electric shock .
We went to the class and I discovered that I was born without any stomach muscles, this was a shock and not something I was expecting to happen. There the teacher was, lay on her side on the mat, legs together and bent back at the knee, arm against the mat at a right angle to her body, and lifting her middle off the mat as if an invisible rope was pulling her up in the middle. Then I tried. Nothing would move, nothing, I positioned my body and I could feel my brain tell my middle to lift but I just wouldn't , it stayed resolutely glued to the mat.
Same thing happened with the funny crunch type things, a lady who was at least 50 could lift her entire upper body off the mat, towards her knees, while I strained to get my head off the mat for longer than a second.
Pilates - not a success.
They assure me that should I make it a regular thing it would get easier and I would notice a difference in the way my body responds on an every day level, but it's just such an expense.
This morning I woke up and got out of bed at 6.15, Glenn doesn't get out of bed until 7.15. I got out of the shower at 6.25 and when I opened the bathroom door he was stood on the landing, a cup of tea in his out stretched hand, his eyes closed. He mumbled 'Happy Birthday, tea for you, going to back to bed'.
I haven't got any stomach muscles, and I may be 25, but life is good.
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1 comment:
Happy Birthday Spanner!
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