I’m currently enrolled in Pilates classes at a near-by studio and have been scooping, rolling and bridging for the past three months. I figured an exercise that focuses on body lengthening and core strengthening may be good for my compacted, graceless and hardly-firm body.
I couldn’t go on my regular day this week so I substituted classes which means I had a different teacher…an advanced Pilates dictator who had it out for me! It was basically just your classic case of bullying- bigger, stronger guy picks on the weakest and chubbiest student in class.
At the beginning of class she asked a series of questions as she leered at me, basically drooling, and waited for me to raise my hand, “Is this anyone’s first class? Second class? Third class? First month?” Her stares grew more and more intense as my mind was yelling back, “Girl, I’ve been here for three months!” She seemed surprised I didn’t raise my hand and then the torture session began. She pretty much corrected my every move when it was overly apparent I am not a 90-pound pretzel with the flexibility of a Cirque Du Soleil performer. In the meantime, lady to my left is all over the place and doesn’t get corrected once. Sure she was older, but I’m chubby and inflexible. Don’t these equate to the same thing in Pilates? She didn’t even show the modifications for the people (a la MOI and lady to my left) who are still considered Level One. Her psycho stare almost demanded an irrational apology, “I’m sorry my leg can’t extend straight, go behind my head in one sweeping motion, all while I’m in a back bend and giving the peace sign.”
After Pilates I usually feel refreshed, calm, and energized. Pilates Dictator made me feel worse about myself than before I waltzed in there. That shouldn’t be the case after an hour of clenched abs…especially for someone who has been doing her best to avoid Girl Scout cookies.
This week, it’s back to my normal day. If I ever again can’t make it to my regularly scheduled class and lovely instructor, I’ll just do something equally as uncomfortable as the Pilates Dictator’s class, like have someone beat me with a leather strap.