I didn’t make it to the yoga class on Monday morning, so I decided to try and get to the pilates class today. One minute it was 9.10 and I was sitting reading blogs with a cup of tea in my hand and the next it was 9.30 and the class started in a quarter of an hour. Oops! Undeterred by such a challenge, I jumped on my bike and pegged it down the road. Things might have been a bit easier if I hadn’t got distracted by the bird-watching man and wondered nosily what he had spotted, thus carrying on along the path instead of going up the hill. This resulted in a detour around Catford (never a fun experience), finding I couldn’t take a right turn, annoying pedestrians by riding on the pavement for a bit (I know), and avoiding getting crushed by big lorries, buses and impatient van drivers. I got to the gym at 9.44, flustered, a bit sweaty and very snotty, perfect.
My previous experience of pilates has been as a dancer, so I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. The room was full and there was already some deep breathing going on, so I sneaked in and found a mat and a bright yellow rubber band thing that everyone seemed to have, and got down and breathed. There were points early on in the class where I was slightly bored, being more of a go faster, get sweaty sort of person, but I soon found myself working hard and engaging previously neglected muscles in the midriff region. I felt strong on some of the harder exercises, so the run/gym thing seems to be paying off. It was a good class and the teacher was attentive and obviously experienced, so I think I might go back. I’m not convinced by the opera-pop mix, wailing lady whale music thing though and I tend to mis-read pilates as ‘pirates’, which I think would be a far more exciting sort of class.