A tummy rub, can I PLEASE get a tummy rub?
Originally uploaded by ucumari.
A few years ago, I had a conversation with a girl at work about how much she loved running on the treadmill at her gym. "Don't you just love sweating, Gab? Doesn't it just feel great?". She wasn't asking rhetorically. The speed and emphasis with which I replied in the negative surprised her, I think.
I don't really understand the appeal of sweat. Oh sure, I can appreciate the appeal of the ole "bow-chicka-wow-wow" kinda sweat (sorry, Dad) but you know that's not what I mean so let' s move it along. Gym sweat, THAT sort of sport sweat, just implies slime and stinky feet to me. Issues? Maybe.
But tonight was Episode 1 of Pilates Boot Camp and I'm pretty sure I sweated out of my eyeballs. I didn't even know you could do that. At one point I think I almost blacked out. My body has not worked that hard on Pilates machines in a long, long time.
It doesn't help that my teacher is an utter sadist. He has so much energy I can't decide whether to be inspired by him, or kill him. I guess he knows he's safe; killing him would require muscle control I simply don't have right now.
I was a legend at the start of the class - jumping jacks; grapevine walking; all muscles alert and ready to go. By the time we progressed to stepping up (and jogging up) onto and over the Reformer machine, I was starting to puff. Cue the ninja squats and alternate knee raises. Better. But then when the 5lb weights got involved, I was struggling. I noticed that a couple of the girls were using 3lb weights instead. Clever bitches. Where did they get those?!
Very little of the class was actually laying down tonight; a marked change from my usual Pilates workout. Still, I know that my abs are going to hate me over the next few days, cause we definitely used them throughout the full hour workout tonight.
Our last exercise before the stretches were push-ups. I totally suck at them. And just when I thought Mr Sadist Teacher would wind us down, he had us do planks, then a push up, and then a little bounce on our hands. LIke a jumping push-up. I thought I might die. But I still did 4 of them, and didn't land on my face once. That said, had I landed on my face I don't think I would have got up. At least unassisted.
So there you have it - one class down, and nine to go. Here's hoping I can stave off muscle atrophy long enough to keep sharing the stories with you.