Pilates

We're all supposed to be working out regularly, right? Though "supposed to" is doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence.

I have not been doing that.

I was active once upon a time. I was sporty. I played sports, coached, and ran with my husband (he ran; I chased him). Then injuries, career demands, and a tiny global pandemic made it very easy to just… not.

And all that "not" caught up with me. I knew it was time for a change when I slipped into a bathing suit on vacation and discovered that I looked like I was wearing a flotation device in the shape of an unsightly middle-aged paunch. Meanwhile, Mr. Hot Retired Fighter Pilot (HRFP) works out every day and looks like a million bucks. Sigh.

So instead of rejoining a gym, I decided to try something new. Something supposedly good for women my age. Something I'd heard was hard but rewarding.

Pilates.

Three classes in, here's my official report:

(+) It's not napping, but you do get to lie down for a good portion of class. (

+) The veterans are long and lean in a way that has always eluded me—but hope springs eternal.

(+) Comfy grippy socks mean no one's bare feet in your line of sight.

(−) You have to venture out in −4° weather to get there.

(−) Early classes mean potentially sacrificing the coffee your HRFP husband usually brings you in bed.

So far? I'm a fan. I'll keep you posted…..assuming they don't throw me out for all the moaning and complaining.