Magic peanut

(is anyone else singing, "Spear and magic helmet!"?) No? Just me?

So, class 23 found us back at pilates. (waves at Michelle)

I brought a little inflatable ball shaped like a peanut. I hoped it would help me do roll ups.

Not so much. I still flail like an overturned turtle. Still, it helped me do other things, where I needed support for my head or lower back. And I managed rockers, which I have tried in the past and failed miserably at.

There was one move for which the magic peanut was no help. Squat. Put your palms on the floor. Turn your knees to one side. Try to stick your leg out.

Fall over and laugh hysterically.

Boom.

Maybe the magic peanut would have cushioned me when I toppled. I'll have to ponder that usage...

Class 23 of the 40 Day Challenge, or I Lied when I said Zelinda Broke my Butt

So, today in pilates (pre-class starting, of course), we were joking about how Zelinda broke our butts in Tuesday's Hatha class.

I believe Michelle took this as a challenge, because I can tell you, definitively, that my butt was only cracked when pilates started. Now it is busted.

Broke.

In serious trouble.

O.o

(I swear, y'all, that is some hard work in that class. I don't doubt for a second that I'm putting out the effort.)

Now for a goofy, broken-butt related story.

When I was wee, I was even more literal than I am now, believe it or not. One day I was at my pappy's house and I fell on my backside, hard. My pappy swooped in, scooped me up and patted my butt, then stopped still.

Then he blinked, grabbed my hand, and put it on my tush.

"Shawn Anne," he said, oh so seriously. "You've broken your butt. There's a crack going straight down the middle."

I think I probably stopped screaming about two and a half weeks later.

My mother still winces when someone tells that story. I'm 90% sure that she still has part of the headache that caused, 38 years later...

;-)

Namaste, y'all.

S.

 

Class info:

Location: The Yoga Room

Class type: Pilates

Teacher: Michelle

Pilates is like death

Or at least that's what I told someone at the kickoff party on Sunday. Today marked my third pilates class ever, and I think I'm getting the hang of it. I mean, I'm not Michelle, our instructor, by any means. She's a dancer, and she has great turnout and extension and all those other dance-y terms. (I'm serious. She's got great form.) I may not have all that, but I only had to stop about three times today and let my muscles stop seizing up like melted chocolate that needs a hit of cream...

Mmm. Chocolate.

Anyway, Shawn tells me I have the length of limb to be graceful. She insists I look like this.



(Well, she says gazelle and this is an antelope, but I'm a Colorado girl and antelope are indigenous)

I figure I look more like this:



A baby water buffalo, you ask? Absolutely. Not entirely awful too look at, but a little blunder-y.

Still, in keeping with my resolve yesterday to be kinder to myself, I can say I felt calmer and more in tune with my body today, and that all in all, I did good, even if my butt, like Shawn's, is broken.

Edited to add:

Michelle was nice enough to take extra time after class to show me ankle exercises that I can do to strengthen my ligaments and tendons and muscles. I really appreciated the insights, and I've gotten a couple of stretchy bands to use at home! Thanks, Michelle.
Peace, folks!

Lorna

Class Three of the 40 Day Challenge, or Pilates Broke My Butt

So. Pilates.

Long.

Graceful.

Lean.

Flowy.

Yeah. Right.

Me? I'm built like a wind-up robot. Short, squat, square.

This is pilates class #3 for me and I still suck at it.

I have the sneaking suspicion I will suck at it until the end of time.

Does this stop me? Of course not. Never let it be said that I won't try. Basset hounds think they're greyhounds, right? I'm sort of like a pit bull attempting to be a... Hrm. Irish setter? Maybe a Visla. Something less torso heavy and muscly thighed.

Everyone in class lifts their legs like gazelles and my short muscled legs goes crick-crick-crick (yes, you can hear the gears and wind-up mechanisms inside, just like the picture) and then crack-crack-crack all the way down.

Gazelle.

Wind-up Robot.

*grins*

Also, I may never sit comfortably again. Still, you will see me next Wednesday, and you can hear the crackage and creakage of my inner workings for yourself.

Namaste, y'all.

S.

 

Class info:

Location: The Yoga Room

Class type: Pilates

Teacher: Michelle