I know I’m fortunate, and it goes beyond the fact I have two arms, two legs and a heart beat. I’m married to the Devil and he is truly one of the good people on this earth. Firstly, he is married to me, and that must take all his inner strength and diplomacy most mornings – and he still calls me his Princess. Secondly, he is the best dad on the planet. Hands down.
Enough mush.
Why else would I consider myself fortunate? Well, I am fortunate enough to have a second man in my life. Yep, one that expects nothing of me except for me to turn up and give my all. Let me introduce Yoda, grand master of Pilates. Strangely I have known Yoda for many years, our paths first crossed when I was still young, unmarried and enjoying my life far too much. We had common friends and often turned up at the same parties. Fast forward a number of years and I found Yoda instructing in my local Pilates studio.
True to his name, I often experience Yoda as the accomplished Jedi Master that he is, testing me to mental and physical extremes. Tonight it was turned up a notch. Now, I’m unsure if this has been brought about by my statements of ‘sweat is fat crying’, his knowledge of my 12WBT, or if he is being encouraged by his partner in crime, Ms P (she knows who she is and I’m sure will provide some input into a preferred name), but there was a noticeable increase in the testing of the physical this evening. Might I just add, I believe I sucked it up, and I loved it!
Now Ms P was actually the catalyst behind me signing up for the 12WBT challenge. She could sell ice to Eskimos. I was hooked as she spoke of others successes. I raced home and signed up before I had time to talk myself out of it. She failed to mention there would be no champagne for 12 weeks.
I owe a lot to Yoda and Ms P. They regularly have to listen to my whinging and whining in the studio, often laughing at me, not with me. When I called to let them know I had in fact broken my leg, they were the first to encourage me back into the studio. It was only a broken leg after all, not a disability.
So, literally after eleven days, I waltzed back in, strutting my stuff. Yoda and Ms P took it in their stride, slightly adjusting my program to accommodate the moon boot that had inconveniently made an appearance. They would accept no excuses. At the time I thought they hated me, I thought they had it in for me (actually truth be told, I possibly still do). Honestly though, I thank them. They wouldn’t hear of my excuses or my desires to not train. They made me believe I could in fact do what ever I set my mind to. Everything but the Pike, the side Pike, any form of the Pike.
The Pike is actually a fish
The way they are waiting for me to contort my body is actually like this (looks easy, doesn’t it? Switch on your abs and give it a go some time).
For sheer entertainment, week in week out, I have a crack at it, I’m sure only for their amusement. The Pike for me is near impossible, it is my Pilates nemesis. When signing up for the 12WBT you have to write out your goals. Mastering the Pike is one of mine. Having Yoda and Ms P laugh with me and not at me is another (well, it should be). I believe I heard Yoda reference turning tonights workout up a notch to help prepare me to master the Pike. Personally, given the lack of grace I completed these with, I think the additional routines were more fodder for the amusement pile. So be it. I’m happy to look ridiculous tonight because my abs are on fire.
Chasing numbers 