For the longest time, I have stereotyped Yoga and Pilates instructors as flexible people who meditate but could be snapped in half if pushed too hard. I know instructors like this exist, and they may even be the majority, but my Pilates instructor is not one of them. Despite the huge pile of dreadlocks that sits atop her head and the hippe-esque jewelry she wears, she's a rough-tough-cream-puff. I mean, seriously, the woman could probably dropkick Chuck Norris.
Today's class was my first Pilates class ever, and I had no idea what to expect. In fact, I may have even asked my friend what the difference between Pilates and Yoga was. Now I know. I enjoyed the exercises for the most part, though it definitely would have helped to be more familiar with the positions and transitions. I suppose that comes with time. I was overzealous with my weights. Silly me; I know I have zero upper-body strength. That made some of the positions very challenging, but I felt really good otherwise. I think this could be a great way to strengthen and build my core, which is pretty pitiful at this point.
I kept thinking, "If I could only be doing all of these things with my legs, then I'd be good to go." Alas. I was relieved that we focused on upper body. On the offhand chance that I'm sore tomorrow, I'd rather it be up there than in my legs, which need to carry me 20 miles tomorrow.