How Pilate didn't exactly change my life but certainly slowed down the ravages of advancing age.
by Rebecca M. Armstrong
Ah, the hubris of youth. In my twenties I firmly believed that I was invincible and, in truth my body withstood the havoc of life in contemporary London remarkably well. It was only in my late thirties that chinks began to appear in the armor: life with a long torso and short legs became hard; my mild scoliosis fel more severe; I developed sciatica and, horror of horrors, the fledgling bunion on my left foot took on the proportions of a monstrous carbuncle. Enter Joesph Pilates. At the insistence of a friend, I started twice a week at a studio in Seattle where I lived at the time. The results weren't instantaneous, but after a few hour-long sessions I was a) much stronger and b) able to live like I was in my twenties without feeling like I was in my sixties. People openly remarked on my triceps.
Now I'm in my forties I;ve slowed down some (at least at the social end of things) but, thanks to my friends at reFORM Pilates, I continue with Pilates at least three times a week and am stronger and more flexible than ever, The strangest thing is, I actually look forward to the sessions (you couldn't have paid me to go to a gym back in the day). And with the addition of Gyrotonic to my regimen, I'm regaining a range of motion in my joints not experienced sinxe the phys. ed classes of my early teens. I don't even mind when Jessica uses me to demonstrate how to work with someone of unusual body proportions. Here's the next 40 years!
