Never thought of myself as a Pilates sort of chap before, but after a session last night there’s a real danger of me becoming a convert.
M had mentioned a while ago that there was a local class starting, and I thought it might help my running effort by improving my general strength, and forcing me to stretch. Apart from a very occasional, very quick and half-hearted calf stretch, there is little danger of me ever having done myself any good by stretching anything. Also, I’ve always had trouble with upper back pain after long runs, which I’m told is caused by a build-up of lactic acid. Pilates is the sort of targetted activity that could help to shift it.
We found our way to a rather dingy dance studio-type of room deep inside the local school, where we found another half dozen volunteers, and a very fit-looking blond Norwegian lady called Lily, who soon had me moaning and writhing sweatily on the floor.
It really was good. We stretched and rotated and lifted ourselves for an hour, and although it never became aerobic, I did feel surprisingly and satisfyingly exercised by the end of it. I’ll do it again.
But it was this morning that I felt the full benefit of the session. I was much looser. The plan was to stick with the three miles but I felt enthusiastic enough to tack on another mile, and improved my pace by nearly a minute a mile over the last couple of days.
It was another early, pre-work, run. The rain maintained a fine spray throughout. Most memorable moment was rounding a bend on a narrow lane to find four horses mooning at me. Yes. They were backed up in a line against a fence, their arses stuck in the air towards me – like a protest about something. Had to wonder what this bodily chorus of equine disapproval were feeling so aggrieved about. The rain, I guess. They should try wearing baseball hats. I’ve grown quite attached to mine.
These must be racehorses. In the next field I saw another two groups of four or five horses being exercised on long, loose leashes. Quite a magnificent sight. Not seen them there before. Perhaps they’re moved in at this time of year.
The last mile was quite tough, but I saw it through. I was knackered and wet, but after a hot shower, felt great.
Now here’s an odd thing to report. I weighed myself before and after my run and found that I was 1.2 pounds lighter on my return. That’s understandable – loss of fluid. But after my shower I was another 1.2 pounds lighter. How can this be? There seem to be only two possible explanations:
- My body-cleansing routine is so vigorous that it’s the equivalent of running for another four miles
- On my run I had somehow managed to amass 1.2 pounds worth of mud and other debris on my skin
Hmm. M offered an alternative explanation — the scales are crap. Huh. Women! What do they know….?
