I began a new exercise class this summer: Pilates Mat. The plan: to develop my core muscles without injury to ankles or knees, as sometimes induced by yoga poses, to foster good posture and to ease back injuries. Besides I already had a mat.
As I looked among the group of four in the 8:00 a.m. Pilates class, I quickly figured that the combined age of the three other women equaled mine – and still I killed at the sport. Positive self-esteem warmed my belly from the inside out.
With one caveat: we were sometimes directed to hold an imaginary blueberry between the mat and our bellies as we lifted various appendages inches from the floor – and my blueberry remained smashed flat as a pancake. If you can’t picture me in the poses, consider yourself lucky.
That’s why I’ll keep wearing tee shirts that drape, like my skin drapes over ‘six pack abs’ when I stand. I like to eat blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup too much to give them up. Oh well.
The butter bump in the pancakes picture reminds me of an ‘outie’ belly button. I’m an “innie”. What are you?