abs of jelly
I had my first pilates class yesterday. It was a beginner's class, mostly comprised of mums and people over 70. Feeling confident that I would be able to keep up (if old people can do it, surely I can too), I got my yoga mat and settled myself in. It's been so long since I've taken a fitness class that I had forgotten about horrifying things like wall-to-wall mirrors. It was like a traffic accident; I truly did not want to look at myself struggling to bend to one side while all my fat gathered itself up like a doughy accordion, and yet I couldn't turn away. I was fine with the stretches and surprised myself at how flexible I still am, but when it was time for the serious pilates work, I made a terrible discovery: doctors must have stolen my abdominal muscles when they removed Jack from me.
I tried to curl myself up using my stomach muscles, but the only way I could do it was by using my neck, shoulders, and legs. It wasn't like my abs were struggling to do the exercises, it was like I had no muscles there at all. On the other hand, I must still have something there because my stomach is killing me today.
No one's going to be bouncing a quarter off my stomach anytime soon, but it's nice to finally get back into classes again. I don't feel strong enough to return to yoga yet (don't be fooled - it's a lot harder than it looks), so I'll just stick to pilates for the time being. And hope that the old people don't laugh at me.