Pilates

No one can accuse The Wattmeister of resting on his laurel. The pursuit of excellence is a never ending challenge. This week, he joined a Pilates class at the local gym in order to build up core strength, realign his skeletal frame, and engineer some flexibility into his rigid, military posture.

His attempt to hide away in a quiet, secluded corner of the studio was thwarted by eagle-eyed instructor, Alvin Quek, who placed the arthritic athlete in the centre of the room surrounded by lithe and limber female exponents of the dark art.

At first this looked like a promising upgrade, but it soon became clear that The Wattmeister was hopelessly outgunned by his more flexible classmates as they sailed effortlessly through the routines while he struggled to determine between commands of RIGHT and LEFT, never mind lift one leg off the floor while executing a Pilates Bridge.

While he wrestled with his non-compliant body, the effort was beginning to take its toll. Sweat streamed down his brow, the back of his shirt became drenched. He KNEW that lentil curry an hour before the class was a bad idea. The pressure was building inside his distorted body. Finally, it was time to do the Jackknife….he rolled forward, desperately trying to hold everything together, he rolled backwards….so far so good, but the battle for control was intense…he rolled forward again, backwards again….he yielded, suddenly and with dramatic effect….no more control at his disposal…. the explosion was immense, and was followed by an aftershock.

Nobody bat an eyelid. You have to love Pilates.

 

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