So, I’m still massively Spanish deficient. And despite that, I decided to join a Pilates class only taught in Spanish, even though there is a very high probability I won’t understand the instructor.

So I’ve been climbing stairs for exercise for over 20 years, but I have chronic low back issues and it’s getting worse as I’ve aged. Plus, my posture has gotten worse.

Stairs are great for cardio and leg/butt strength but doesn’t help the upper body or my posture, so I thought from what I know Pilates helps balance, strength, and posture/back issues. And it’s cheaper here. Like a third of the cost in the US woohoo.

All I know is I’m tired of seeing myself in the mirror.  So why not try it here even if I don’t know my ass from a hole in the ground in Spanish.

I figured I can just watch others and follow along, right?  I mean I’m not a complete idiot despite what people think, and maybe I’ll actually learn a word or two other than up and down in Spanish. Maybe I’ll learn some anatomical positions and get better posture too!  Besides, I have nowhere to go but up (literally)  after seeing my impending hunchback figure in the mirror.

Seriously I’m about to turn 60 and staring at the ground which seems to be getting closer is making me nervous. Please God don’t let me look like I’m aging that badly.

So after a glass of wine, (which I sometimes have before something to give me the nerve to speak crap Spanish) I went to the studio to register. Im just kidding I didn’t drink, well maybe a little).

It was closed. It was the tail end of siesta time; they didn’t open till 5:15 pm.  Of course, where am I the US? Hell no, I’m in Spain where meals and naps are first. Of course, it’s not open at 4:30 pm. What was I thinking? I should have had a 2^nd glass. Just kidding. Not.

It finally opened and I walked through the glass-etched doors of the Pilates studio. It was a large open airy space with wooden floors and white furniture. Nice gigs. I waited behind someone at the registration desk. I could see ten torture-looking machines in a large room to my left with mostly all women laying on them. They did look odd. Like low wooden tables with a sliding platform and cables and metal springs and wooden things hanging from the top. I wasn’t sure if it was something Ide seen in a porno movie or an orthopedic ward in a hospital.

Hmm, I was wondering if this was a good idea, I already stumbled and busted my ass not once but twice in the past two weeks, (one at a stair race mind you) and the thought of falling or flying off something was making me anxious. And no I wasn’t drinking either.

Then it was my turn.

I mumbled bad Spanish “I want to register for the 2 times a week class on the machines”. And I pointed to the price sheet. She asked me que dias and hora? Day and time. Obviously, she figured out I couldn’t speak Spanish and pointed to a calendar, and we agreed Monday and Friday at 6 pm. $85 and with the swipe of my card we were done.

So Monday:

I show up and go to a room with other ladies, to put my backpack up and I tentatively walked into the torture room and a very toned tan Spanish instructor comes to me to say hello. “I’m Carlos, please sit there” and directs me where I can see him and I can see others. He spoke a little English too. Score! Too bad I’m not young, Ide ask for private lessons and see how many positions one could do on these machines. Haha. Dream on old lady, the voice in my head snapped. Those days are over.

I lay my towel down and sit on the platform. It slides back and forth on a frame and one end has five springs of different colors attached to the inside of the frame. He says three colors “azul, rojo, and yellow” which he has me attach to adjust the tension of the sliding table. Ok, I got it. After years of Spanish classes, I got two out of three colors right before he spoke English. Just like a 2-year-old. Yea for me.

So, I watch. There are mirrors along one wall and I watched eight ladies all on the slider tables laying down on their backs. Each with their feet on a bar at the end of their platforms sliding back and forth using their feet in a walking motion to stretch the calves and shins.

Ok so far so good, I could do that.

I watch and Carlos comes over and demonstrates certain moves. I don’t understand a damn word he says as evidenced by my blank stares.  Fortunately, he knows some English but instead of saying “Flex your leg or straighten your leg” he says “Erect your legs,  “Open your knees…” ok, I get the gist. At least he’s not a gynecologist.

So I’m sliding back and forth on the platform, the springs making a twanging noise with each lengthening of the slider. He then has us get up and put one leg on the slider and one on the floor. We are to stand and basically move the right leg outward like a standing open leg split. Except I didn’t have the right rubber bottom socks. Im pushing the slider table with the right leg and the left leg is on the floor. He says keep your legs “erect” no bending. I was trying really, I was.

Then my left leg begins to slide on the floor to the left. Socks on wooden floors don’t mix well and I’m now nearly in a full standing split with one leg on the slider and the other on the floor, my groin is on fire and I can’t stop what’s happening. The slider keeps moving to the right and my socks are slipping to the left. Holy moly Batman I might need surgery after this. Maybe this was a mistake after all.

I couldn’t do a split as a kid and now I can’t even do 1/3 of one unless two people are pulling my legs apart for me. So why not try it on a moving table? Is this wise?

He sees me wincing and quickly puts a rubber towel on the floor and helps me put my left foot on it to stop myself from sliding into hell. Phew, no surgery today.

Ok wow.

No wonder Pilates is so expensive in the US, liability. Moving objects, metal springs, cables, unintentional splits, wood floors. There should be signs; “danger: sliding objects and springs, protect your nipples and groin.”

So, we continue.

We stand and do reverse lunges on the thing, one foot on the slider, the other on the floor. Ok, this will help my balance I’m thinking. So far so good.  Then he has us lay on it and use the cables to move our bodies with our arms. Ok, this is cool. I kind of like the mechanics of it all. I’m getting the hang of it. So I follow along and he helps me often.

Then the class is done. We lunged, stretched, pulled, pushed, and did things I didn’t think you could do on a sliding platform with cables. At least outside the movies, but I digress.

I decided I like this. I’ll come back.

So I’ve been back and well, not every class is as easy as the first one.

In fact

I think Carlos thought I was doing better than I was.

In my 3rd class, it all started out innocent enough and I decided to pick a table near the wall and not be in the center anymore. Good choice.

We started out with stretches, sliding, and lunges. All I kinda remembered.

He then explained something which I didn’t understand of course. I watch the others to figure it out.

We have to do a move where we had to get on the slider, our hands on the bar at the end. So imagine being on your knees, your hands on the bar in front of you. Then you lift yourself up into a plank, but the table moves, so you have to keep the slider from moving and stay in a plank position. I was barely able to do it as the moving part was precarious. He must have seen more than one have trouble and he had us stop after maybe ten seconds. Phew. A plank on a moving table… who’s idea was that? Im sweating too.

Then he demonstrated the next move.

He must have not gotten laid the night before cause he came up with a muther.

He says (I assumed) “Get on your knees on the slider table and lean back like your sitting on your calves.” I watch the ladies. They take the two cables that are on each side of the table, one in each hand. Then with a cable in each hand, do an open chest fly move which allows one to move with the slider backward while your arms go forward in the chest fly move. Do all this all the while you are upright on your knees. It looked easy enough from my corner, I thought to myself.

WRONG.

So I followed suit. I got on my knees, leaned over, and took one cable in my left hand.

Then I carefully leaned over and took the other cable in the right.

Then it happened.

As soon as I took both cables the platform slider moved as my upper body created a top-heavy position with no support and I became a moving object.  As my arms went out into fly position, the slider went back and my upper body flew forward like I was a slingshot. So thanks to a complete loss of balance and gravity, I went head first to the floor between the slider and the open space at the end where the five springs are attached to the frame of the thing.  I hit the springs and they all snapped with a loud twang and the cables flew from my hands ricocheting backward and slapping against the machine and wall.

I was face down, my butt in the air, my knees still on the slider.

The whole room stopped.

Holy Hell.

The instructor was there in a flash.

I was the gringo on the floor and the lights were not dark enough to hide the crack of my ass now showing out of my yoga shorts nor was the music loud enough to drown out the crash of my body wacking into the floor and springs.

Madra f**ing  mia

Joder

Jesus H. Christ as my father would have said.

Every word in English and Spanish came out. But only in my head.

Great, everyone knew it was me, I’m not Spanish and now they can see my bare ass too. I righted myself and said it’s ok, and he said “Don’t worry it happens to everyone.”

Except today it was only me.

Thanks for that.

Maybe you should have been standing next to me then to avoid this disaster.  Instead, you now get to see the crack of my ass, fat and all. Great.

But I admit it was my fault too, I couldn’t understand him and I was sure he probably gave the “be careful” instructions before and during the ass-flying move.

 So it serves me right, being unable to speak Spanish I got to kiss the springs today.

When we finished, he asked about me. I said don’t worry I’ve fallen much worse than this over way more boring circumstances.

Well not really.

I got home, sat down, and noticed my legs had spring burns.

What did I learn?

In any language, Pilates is still WTF

My posture better improve or else.

I need better-fitting yoga pants.

I feel old.

Somewhere in Spain, between metal springs.