A World of Hurt

I've taken up pilates. Yes, pilates (and note to the spellcheck, that is TOTALLY a word).

It all came about when I realized I could no longer comfortably fit into a couple of pairs of jeans I own, then reviewed the past four months' eating habits - and let's be honest, drinking habits - and realized that I was going to have to exercise and eat better or buy some new clothes.

I don't have the money to buy a whole new wardrobe, so guess which option wins?

I dug out an 8-year-old pilates DVD that I had never even prised from its packaging, but had moved a bazillion times, and went to it Sunday afternoon before going to meet some friends for Japanese food.

I thought to myself, "It's only a 30 minute work-out. And I'll do the Level One exercises - with modification - so I won't strain myself. How hard can it be?"

I think we all know where this is going.

I am rediscovering muscle groups I'd forgotten I possessed. I'm also kind of proud to say that I can name them.

I found:

Obliques

Abdominals

Delts

Biceps

Triceps

These had all been missing for a while. I also found my hamstrings and my calf-muscles - oh dear God, did I find my hamstrings! - and now I'm reveling in the soreness that comes from a second day of exercise. It was infinitely more painful, Monday evening, seeing as my poor widdle muskles were already sore, but it will be totally worth it when I can get back into those jeans...

The black ones...

With the slits up the ankles.

Yeah.

Those.