Today I took a pilates class with two 70+ year-old women. And it was fabulous. Basically, my gym experience involves hanging out with the older crowd since I’m there during non-traditional gym hours. Since my workout plan was clearly not working (read: I gained 1o lbs since I started going to the gym and could no longer put my pants on), I recently switched it up and decided to add pilates as it’s probably the best thing for me to do right now. And lucky for me, there’s a class 2 days a week right when I’m at the gym anyway. And that class currently has two 70+ year-olds in it. Semi-private, not so bad, eh?
Of course, pilates with 70+ year-olds probably isn’t quite the intensity level I’d usually aim for, but I believe it’s what you make it. And since my pilates background is basically made up of watching Denise Austin smile and tell me I’m doing a fabulous job, I should probably start slowly anyway. The teacher told me I did a fantastic job (gold stars, yay!), but couldn’t get over how “weird” my ribs are. I’ve always noticed they stick out, but never realized that was odd.
The only thing that bothered me was at the end of the class when the instructor asked if we wanted to work our abs or our butt more. Of course the older women yell, “butt!! butt!!” and since I’m new to the class, I feel it would be rude of me to argue. But really, my problem areas are much different than a 70 year-olds. I’m just saying.
After I finished pilates, I completed the rest of my workout on the treadmill with the 60+ year-old men who attend my gym. The area I live in is seriously really young, so I have no idea where these people come from during the day. But really, I don’t mind it at all.
Will I do the pilates class again? Well, I kind of already promised Martha, who I ran into in the locker room. She’s worried the class will get cancelled if not enough people show up, so I assured her I’d be there on Tuesday. Hooray for new friends.