Pilates....please!

Since I couldn’t be in Tulsa to help my sister celebrate her recent birthday, instead I chose to go to my first Pilates class. (Hindsight tells me it would have been much more enjoyable in Tulsa.) I have already been participating in a three-times-a-week water aerobics class which I enjoy, but I just felt I needed a little more challenge. My friend, Hope, and I had recently gone to the Marine Hill Gym and looked at the bulletin board for fitness class listings. We spied a Pilates class that met twice a week, and I started writing down the information.

An extremely fit (or to be more exact, very muscularly sculpted) young Jamaican man named Everton asked if we needed any assistance. We told him we were interested in the Pilates class, and Everton indicated that he was the instructor. We chatted with him for a minute about the class and decided to try it the next day.

As we left the gym, Hope brightly smiled and told an older Jamaican gentleman standing by the door that we were going to end up looking like 20 year-olds. He sadly smiled and while shaking his head negatively, said, “No, ma’am. Maybe 30 year-olds.” Truth hurts.

And so does Pilates. We showed up the next day, all excited and ready to go. Besides us, there were three young (under 30) women who looked like they had done Pilates all their lives. We were instructed to get a mat, a weighted bar and the ring of torture (a flexible 12 inch circular tube with padding on it).

The ring of torture is either positioned between the knees, or even worse, the ankles, and one is supposed to press inward while the ring is in place. The trick is to KEEP the ring in place while you are pressing. And, while you are holding a heavily weighted bar over your head. And while your legs are jacknifed in some unnatural position. And, you do all of this 20 times in rapid succession. While you are practicing controlled breathing.

Everton -- rumor has it that he was “Mr. Jamaica” -- also has the tendency to instruct like a drill sergeant. And, of course, during the course of a week he does lead classes for the Marines. “Breathe in through the mouth - out through the nose,” chanted Everton continually, flashing his very white teeth.

After one hour, Hope and I weren’t sure we could get up off of our mats. When we put our bars away, one of the sweet young things in the class told me “you might want to select one of the lighter bars next time.” So nice to tell me AFTER the class.

Here is Everton along with two of our classmates.