A Day of Firsts

My daughter is 17 months old. Her day is filled with firsts...first words which are turning into first sentences (yesterday was " wait a minute" which sounded like "wayaminnit") first discoveries (most recent is that it's tough to catch your shadow, but sure is easy to pet it) and first tastes (balsamic-vinaigrette marinated then grilled portobello mushrooms added yet another face to the many faces of Ava Frances).

I don't want to be one of those mom's who lives vicariously through their child. So, I've decided to take on some firsts of my own. (That this day of firsts happens to be the first of October is complete serendipity.)

This morning, I rose my tired body out of cozy bed at insane 4am. Now, that isn't a first for me...I'm usually up and out under the stars for a long, sweaty, run that contribute to knotted up and snappy muscle syndrome, which I have and wear as a scarlet letter P (for pathetic) on my chest in every class I've ever taken that involves any kind of stretching (warm up and cool down count).

This morning, however, I was going to do something different. I loaded myself into the car and headed to the gym for Fitness Pilates. What is that, you ask? Hold on, I'm about to tell you:

I've never taken a Pilates class in my life. Not ever. I did order the Winsor Pilates tapes about seven years ago (yes, this was still VHS era, DVD's were just coming on the scene--at least in my paper and pencil world) when I woke early at my then-boyfriend's/now-husband's apartment and knew if I tried to wake him it would be the last time I ever woke up in his apartment again. So, I plumped myself down on his comfy couch, turned on the tube, and there was Daisy Fuentes, long and lean and so.....pilates. I could do that, I thought, and I want to look like that, I knew, so 1-800-order-me, I did.

The tapes remain in my painted green childhood dresser at my parents home in upstate New York. Unopened, untested.

But that's okay. I'm taking on a don't-look-back approach to this one-shot-at-life we've got. Fitness Pilates, here I come.

I arrived a little early because I wanted a spot in the back, not too early because I wanted to see what everyone else was piling up next to them.

There were three people already there. Each had a mat so I got a mat. I turned to the woman on my left and asked, "is there any other equipment that we'll need?"-- she didn't respond and then I spotted her earphones, which made it very clear that even if she could hear me, she didn't want to hear me. The second woman walked past me to pick up one of those squares that you place under a riser. I asked her the same question but she kept walking. Yup, you guessed it, earphones. (Now, I am guilty of the earphones-are-in-but-no-music-is-on-because-I'm-not-interested-in-eye-contact-or-any-contact approach to exercising. I might have even invented it.)

Semi-embarrassed (remember, there is one other woman in the room who ISN'T wearing earphones but clearly heard my two attempts to talk to the ones who were!) I started stretching (which Ava calls armpits thanks to her dad) because I didn't know what else to do and I needed to rethink my strategy.

A few minutes past conspicuous, I walked over and picked up the square--having no idea, mind you, what a Fitness Pilates class would ever do with a single center-carved-out square.

A few minutes later, the second woman went over and picked up a green medicine ball.

Guess I'll need a green medicine ball.

As I walked over to the ball bin, I was first overwhelmed with all of the colors (each indicating a different weight) and then tormented by the question,"Do I get the green one and risk looking totally novice, or do I take a risk and pick out another color, maybe one that's less weight since I have no idea what they're used for--or maybe a little heavier so that even though I'm going to look pathetic in this stretching-involved class I can prove that I spend time doing other things at the gym.

I picked all three. A green because that is what she got. A yellow because it was a couple of pounds lighter, and a purple because that was a couple of pounds heavier.

As I walked back to my spot, it dawned on me what the squares were for. To hold the ball. A ball. Not three balls. One ball.

Unless I was going to juggle these things the entire class, I had a problem.

Since the yellow ball was a little smaller, I figured I could get away with both the green and the yellow on the square. But that would mean I'd have showcase my unPilatesness and walk the purple one back.

So I did.

Throughout the two minute ordeal that felt more like eternity, about eight other people had filtered in--men and women of all shapes, sizes, and ages. Class started and I was surprised at how "advanced" I was at this Fitness Pilates. Mostly because it involved quite a bit of core strength, which I've got some of, in addition to arm and leg strength as well, which I own thanks to this yes-I'm-crazy marathon I'm training for. The instructor said that our "toys" (a body bar and a medicine ball) is what added the "Fitness" to Pilates.

It was a slower pace than I'm used to in most aspects of my life. I liked it.

I did fail the stretch test, but I'm optimistic. I think I'll even give it a second try.

My other first is this blog.

But I'll save that experience for another day.