Pilates: Like Yoga, but With More Suffering

Plus where to catch me performing next!

Twice a week I go to reformer class at a local pilates studio that I love deeply and am also consistently challenged by.

Yes, reformer pilates is the one with the fancy machine that costs more than my car.

I, personally, cannot get myself to weight train without someone telling me what to do and my doctor told me to move more. Both my parents have had knees replaced, so I wanted a joint friendly exercise.

So I found a local studio near me and have been going for about a year.

Here’s what usually happens at a class:

Stage 1: Why is my spine so crunchy?

We’re warming up with the foam roller, which feels like a cross between a toy and a torture device.

My spine and my joints are popping and locking the whole time. Probably because I sit like a shrimp while I type out all my silly little words at my day job and literally all the time ever because I’m a writer. I’m sitting like a shrimp right now.

Stage 2: I am verifiable Self-care Goddess

I usually feel this way during our first couple exercises. Like yes, look at me I’m sleek and capable and look at me doing something good for myself. I’m proud of me!

(I say these things to myself in the voice of Bridget Jones when she narrates her diary entries, just so we’re all on the same page about my inner voice.)

This stage usually lasts approximately 2.2 minutes and we skip straight to stage 3 for most of class.

Stage 3: OH MY GOD HOW MANY SQUATS ARE WE DOING?

This is the moment when I realize I am not a sleek panther, I am a round panda. My hands involuntarily go from the peaceful prayer position to clasped and begging my shaking legs not to give out.

“At least we’re not doing this for 6 minutes!” My instructor laughs, not even breaking a sweat. The reps start to go on long enough that I think she may be lying to me. But our studio has casino rules: no clocks, so I don’t know.

For some reason, the music has stopped working so it’s just the sound of raggedy breathing and my right knee clicking.

Stage 4: “One day you’ll do this move in a more difficult way.”

At least once a class, my instructor this is a setup. Meaning, she’s about to tell me we’re preparing to, one day, add on more to the current move that’s already bringing me to my psychological (and obviously, physical) knees.

And I smile but am really thinking: Maybe when pigs fly.

Stage 5: Seeing someone else look silly getting in and out of the straps for cool down.

Oh my god! That’s what we look like? I feel like our ancestors, the ones that, like, fought off bears, would be so embarrassed for us.

Stage 6: Elation

I step out of the studio exhausted, proud, and in search of pasta. The endorphins make me forget how hard the last 50 minutes were, so I eagerly sign up for my next class.

What I’ve Been Up To Lately

Frankly, getting a lot of rejection emails. lol #writerslife

However, I did get an exciting couple of acceptances for some Fringe festivals that I’ll be able to announce soon. Hot Godzilla Summer round 2 is shaping up.

I also received one publication acceptance for a beloved poem I’ve been submitting for years, also can’t officially announce yet.

Where You Can See Me Perform Soon

I’m reading alongside Melissa Ferrer and Bob Sykora at Bob’s book launch at Arts on Broadway in just a couple weeks! Tuesday March 25th. Doors at 7 with our readings starting at 7:30.

Our He[art]land Arts show is coming up too! Mark your calendars for April 3rd and/or 4th to see “Go Outside: An Infrastructure Musical.” Yes, musical.