Now that I am worried sick about my puny core – because I want to row better at the Head of the Charles in the fall – I decided to try Pilates (floor division). Quite a trip. We were five women and me, in a lovely old barn, up in Norfolk Connecticut. They were very healthy looking puppies. One woman walked in a little late and everyone chirped "Happy Birthday." She looked about 45. She was turning 70. I am rarely wrong about ages: I was stunned.
Pilates is all about your core and an hour of it – I stumbled into an advanced class with Hilary, who knows how – is a hell of a work out. Not as weird or as shaming as most Yoga but no walk on the beach either. And I have been working on my core for a while now. Lots of exercises that combine breathing (yawn), stretching and serious exercise of the muscles around your middle. Al the way around your middle. I was impressed and mean to go back.Want to look like that old girl, man. Then we’ll move some books, by heaven. She is the Revolution in motion, no kidding. You should have seen her do a near-back-flip. Yikes.
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