Pilates

I fell in love with pilates in Israel. I hadn't loved any physical activity in this way since I played water polo in high school. I started it, not to get in shape, but because I was desperate for new friends and a nice American woman with a degree in Public Health told me she had signed up for the class and I should take it with her.

The class was taught in a private home; where there should have been a living room, there was large, nearly empty room with mats, balls, large bands, and so forth. It was apparent the apartment was an unusual one when I arrived at the door. Photographs of the residents cut into the shape of hearts and decorated with crepe flowers were taped to the door and a fairy hung from the knocker. "What sort of new age crap have I gotten myself into?" I thought as I knocked hesitantly at the door. My teacher answered and I was immediately disarmed by the auburn spiral curls of hair piled on top of her head. She looked like a Victorian porcelain doll in sweat pants and a tank top. She smiled and kissed me on the cheek. I was still a little worried about what I had gotten myself into, but her smile was so welcoming that I wasn't too worried.

Only four students fit into the living room along with the teacher. The teacher, Idit, was an actress in her non-pilates life. She used this to the best advantage in her teaching. "Re-e-a-c-h," she would command and I would reach as though her voice were causing my muscles to stretch themselves. Since the class was taught in a combination of Hebrew and English, my Hebrew improved remarkably. Sometimes though, she would speak in English. Occasionally a translation would fail her and she would ask us to point our fingers (toes) or stretch our hands (arms). She would tell us to "tighten our stomach muscles like griddles (girdles) to support our back". With all these griddles, I thought about pancakes during every class.

She would wander around the class touching lightly, a shoulder here, a spine curve there. At the end of the hour, tired and pleased, we would curl into child's pose and she would move around and massage any tension out of our backs and necks. Then, we would lay down as she dimmed the lights, covered us with blankets, and started a meditation in Hebrew. Since I didn't understand the Hebrew at first, I had the benefit of falling asleep every week, soothed by the sound of her voice. I would wake up and stretch and we would move to her table for herbal tea and organic cookies. We would chat about our week, our teacher's upcoming performance, life in Israel. I would walk out into the dark Tel Aviv night and float home through the bustling streets.

At first I couldn't conceive of spending money to go twice a week to the class, and then, I couldn't conceive of not going twice a week. My body changed and muscles I didn't even know existed showed up in my stomach, arms, and back. When I started listing pros and cons of leaving Israel, losing my pilates class was right near the top of the list. When I left, my pilates class took me out to brunch for a formal send off.

Since coming back, I haven't done much pilates because not much can compare to this experience. I thought about becoming an instructor so I could provide other people with a similar experience. But, it seemed, I was just not the kind of person to do something like that. I was sure the cost, the time, and my physical status would all be barriers. But then, along came Fabulous by 30 and I thought, with all the amazing things everyone else is doing, I could at least look into it. I signed up yesterday and I feel like a new world is opening.

I told my boss about it and she immediately said, "You should teach us here. And weight bearing exercises in particular. These are hugely important as women age, and I don't know what to do." My co-workers are also thrilled. When I certify, I have my first gig, teaching an intro mat class in my office. It is the first component of what we are now calling "The Wellness Program". My second gig is going to be the Fabulous by 30 crowd. I can't wait.