Late September in London: Pilates

Yes, I realize it's now Nov. 1 and I'm still talking about September...stop the clocks!!!

Late September found me discovering pilates, which has become my latest exercise obsession.

I was introduced into this torturous looking program by my dear friend Suzanne, a high energy New Zealander who convinced me to try “beautcamp” pilates.

So I signed up for my first free class (love free, don’t you) and made my way to Bayswater for this experience. I wasn’t sure if this was a mix of cardio and floor/machine exercises or what, but I was game.

10:00 rolled around. No Suzanne. 10:05 no Suzanne. Class took place. No Suzanne. Class ended, no Suzanne. Hmm!

Nevertheless, I enjoyed the class (as much as one can enjoy burning muscles, particularly ones that have languished, untested, for years. In fact I think they were/are MAD that I found them and have since put them through their paces).

I had a great instructor for my first class; Ben walked me through the reformer (imagine a cot covered partly with a matt that moves back and forth, tension adjustable). The thing has a movable bar, useful for push ups and all manner of exercises.

Underneath this machine lie a variety of props to continue the physical torture – weights, boxing gloves (have yet to use those), a pole, ring, etc.).

So far each class has been different as there are a variety of instructors and they change up the routine each time. Some things seem to be consistent throughout – squat-like exercises using the reformer to warm up, lots of planks, tricep press ups, etc.

I've become a regular at this place for the past 6 weeks, sorting out who my favorite instructors are and finessing my form to gain the most benefit (burn). So far I think Vicki and Jordie give the hardest workouts. Vicki’s class leaves me feeling like a wet noodle, in a good way. And Jordie is very good at coaching superb form, plus he’s eye candy.

I had to laugh at a recent exchange I overheard between him and another guy who was taking the class. The guy said he'd been away from pilates for a while since he was busy w/ "Tap Dogs," which I saw on the West End. They were talking about a mutual friend who moved to Vegas and had her third child. Jordie's comment: Well I guess there's not much else to do in Vegas. I'm still chuckling about that...what would he think of Charlotte in terms of excitement I wonder.

My pilates launch also fit beautifully into my “light mode” training prior to the ½ marathon and, bonus, it’s a great way to work on flexibility for people like me who don’t bother with stretching.

On Sept. 23 I had a belated birthday celebration. If you turn 40 you’re allowed to celebrate the event for at least six months afterward, I think. 15 of my favorite women friends gatherwed with me, we all donned frocks and had fabulous food at Il Baretto. It was a lovely night, fabulous company and I felt well celebrated.

Small anecdote: I hit the ladies’ room and as I was making my way to the sink a horror-stricken man looked at me and said “wrong room?” I just laughed, delighted to know it wasn't me.

Somewhere during that week I also snuck off to the movies with the ladies. It always feels decadent to hit a matinee during the week, doesn't it? We saw Tamara Drew, which appropriately follows Bathsheba’s story in The Mdading Crowd (Thomas Hardy). The movie, though, was a bit slow/long and then came to a crashing, rather dark ending. WFV

Happily, my husband also returned, unscathed, from a business trip, only to prepare for another.

The kids started pre and post Communion classes on the 25th and I headed off for my ½ marathon the following morning, dressed in three layers. Can we say cold. Our start was at the 02 centre near the river. Colder. Then it was delayed due to tube issues. By then Michelle and I were beyond blue.

I must say, it was a great race (shaky start – 17,000 runners and a rather disorganized race organization). We scarcely found our start; Deb and I were booked into the same timed group and ended up leaping fences and weaving our way through the masses to try to find our space. I’m still not sure if we did but at least we ended up toward the first third.

Somehow we missed the place for checking in our bags (no biggie; neither of us had anything of value in them so we made use of a trash bin). We also managed to find the port-a-potties; that too was chaotic BUT good thing it panned it for us. Could have been a long race otherwise…

We took off together and I have to say I was so frigidly uncomfortable for the first three miles I didn’t think I’d ever get my shoulders out of the clothes pin position.
About mile four, though, the blood seemed to come back into my system, and at mile 5 or 6 I actually shed a layer. Who knew? I also lost Deb about then.
The miles after that were quite happy; well I don't remember them so that's why I would describe them as happy.

However, someplace toward the end, when I could no longer find the mile markers (same problem Deb and Michelle said they had, so it wasn’t just me), someone in the crowd, thinking they were being helpful, hollered “not much longer now.” And someone else said “almost there…”

Boy was I bummed when the end wasn’t just around the corner. In fact, I had a few more corners to go.

But all in all, a great race, I finished in 1:51, which was good for me. And I finished strong, pushed it to the end, still had energy in me, no particular pain.
Yes, I would do the ½ again.

So I was flying high with this attitude until Tuesday afternoon.

Then the coffee table attacked me. Well ok I was in a huge, clumsy hurry...

And the pinkie toe was the casualty. Since then I haven’t been running. In fact, I couldn't wear anything but flip flops for over a month. Those apples SUCK.
This problem contributed to my infatuation with pilates.

I must say I did want/need a break from running (I had some strange bruises on my feet/ankles, was starting to dread getting up early on Wednesdays to run, etc.). But I could have done without the toe breakage to get a change of scenery.

Now that the toe has gotten a week bit better (this is one long drawn out healing process), I can wear my very ugly UGGs that, happily, John Lewis put on sale last year. Also happily, the one pair available as I was heading off to Haworth for a very COLD, very authentic Bronte experience in the Moors last winter was in my size. They are now my savior. Not pretty, but toe-friendly and warm.

Oh the little dramas of life...