Exercise is one of my new year’s resolutions. In an attempt to develop my physical prowess and not become a bent-over old woman shuffling up stairs with heaving breaths every two steps, I have vowed to run or do pilates or both five days a week. Pilates wasn’t part of my initial resolution to be honest. that came later, when, after walking through caves and having to stoop a fair portion, I recognized that if i didn’t soften up my tight lower back soon, i wouldn’t be able to do anything fun in a relatively short period of time.
The weight lifting and running wasn’t going to do anything about that. Yoga classes didn’t seem possible as 1) there aren’t any that are for beginners right near me 2) the closest studio to me is a bikram yoga studio which means stifling heat for 90 minutes whilst trying to bend and stretch and float on my head while really i’m just going to be nauseous and want to throw up. And even if your first time there you feel sick they don’t want you to leave. no. 3) everytime i’ve gone, they have guided meditation. i’m very rarely in the mood to hear someone speak to me in a soothing voice and tell me to imagine a shaded glen.
However, a friend who just arrived into town told me about a pilates studio near my apartment. So we went over to check it out and after inquiring after group classes (cheaper than individual lessons) and realizing that I don’t really know how to do pilates and that the breathing alone may take far more concentration than I normally give any activity, I opted for privates. That way someone else was responsible for making sure I breathed appropriately.
There is a lot of thinking involved in pilates. A lot. I don’t think I’ve ever been so aware of my body. I tend to live in my head. The majority of activities that I am involved in the body is secondary. I like reading, taking photos, knitting, walking, etc. In none of these things am I totally focused on my body and solely my body. But for this one hour in my day, I cannot think of anything else. If I start to think about work or music or typing or a book I read or a movie I saw or someone who has made me angry or sad or happy, I lose my form and focus and forget what is going on and begin to slump and hold my breath.
The voice of my teacher repeats in my ears over and over–tuck in, soften your ribs, firm up your core, flatten your back, straighten your spine, don’t forget to breathe, inhale, exhale, blow out, straight arms, point your toes, lengthen your legs, long arms, clip your wings, open your chest. All of these over and over (though less often now, as time goes on).
I carry my tension in my shoulders. They tend to creep up toward my ears and shorten my neck.
I am told to relax every session. Every time. My teacher believes I have too much stress that I carry with me all the time. The last time I got a massage, the masseuse kept repeating the same thing–relax relax. Let go. Why are you so stressed?
I wonder if the stress is so much a part of me I can’t feel it anymore, because they say these things to me on days when I’m not conscious of the stress. Is it stress and the knots in my muscles that are holding my joints and bones together?
Sometimes I shake when holding a pose because my muscles in some areas are so weak. This makes my teacher laugh because … I don’t know why. It makes me wonder if she hasn’t seen her other students do the same. I am not the only one who shakes when the weakness leaves her body.
After we are done doing certain series of exercises, my teacher stretches me out. Sometimes I lay on my back and she pushes my folded knees to my chest. Other times I sit on my feet, bend forward and draw out my arms in front of me, as though spent from a serious bout of weeping. She places one hand on my left shoulder and the other on my right hip, pushing them away from each other. Then the other sides. As though I am bread dough. The last is always me planting my feet at the base of a pole, holding both hands overhead on the same pole, and my teacher pulling at my middle until I form a single parenthese. First one side, then the other.
This hour, twice a week, lengthens my spine and I swear I grow two inches. My arms are more graceful, my legs more limber and my mind is finally quiet and clear as I walk home in the polluted evening.
Tags: body awareness, exercise, pilates
