I’ve taken up Pilates, which has been a long time coming for me. I have kind of an… aversion… to exercise. In that I hate it.
Well, mostly I hate it. You could call it a like-hate relationship, I suppose. My newfound okayness with Pilates makes for a Very Pleased Husband. Den is somewhat of a gym junkie. He’s there 5 days a week, lifting his weights and flexing his biceps and whatever else it is men do when they go to the gym (?). What’s more, he’s out of bed at 7am every morning to get there, so you know he’s super keen about it. Just to rub in the fact that he’s super-active while I’m super-NOT, the man also does Jiu Jitsu 3 days a week just for kicks. And when he’s really seriously trying, there’s an hour or so of cardio most days too. I’m tired just freakin’ thinking about it!
When Denis and I first met, I was dancing (as in, hip hop, jazz, funk, ballet dancing… Not. A. Stripper.) Hardcore dancing. Hours and hours every week of classes. I was pretty fit and flexible (See Exhibit A to your right) but under no circumstances was I, or have I ever been a cardio person. In fact, Den has very sweetly already documented on this blog that when I run, I look like Elaine from Seinfeld dancing. It’s probably true. (At least I dance better than her, right?)
But then I stopped dancing. And nothing else could hold my interest… yoga? Yeah, sometimes. But mostly? Yawn. Treadmill? I had one trick where I would go when America’s Next Top Model was on so I could jog for an hour and still be entertained. Power-Boxing? Forget it, I passed out twice after those classes (lightweight). My efforts were sporadic at best, which frustrated my loving husband no end.
The acupuncture-masseuse-health-freak guy in him is worried about my health. Specifically, my heart and my lungs and my organs. Which is lovely of him because, frankly, someone has to be worried about them.
So I decided to give Pilates a go. I’m there regularly 2-3 times a week now (it will be always three times a week once my muscles stop screaming at me for mercy on my off-days!) and enjoying it! It’s reminiscent of dance training… my body somewhat remembers how to get into those poses. I feel lighter afterwards, I walk taller, my breathing is free and easy…
I proudly announced to Den that I have found my thing (I think)… and he scoffed!
“Pilates? C’mon baby, you can do better than that. Do something harder!”
Something harder? Than Pilates?
I tried to tell him “It’s not some fluffy yoga class – we don’t sit around meditating and chanting for an hour… it’s difficult!”
He raised his eyebrows and shook his head, clearly unconvinced…
…Until last week when he came home and announced sheepishly that his Jiu Jitsu instructor had also taken up Pilates and swears that it’s “Harder than Jiu Jitsu.”
Take THAT, you health freak!
Now the only question is; when’s Den gonna man up and come to a Pilates class with me?