You know how when you’re under 30 and you have a pretty good idea about what your life will look like and what it won’t look like? What you will look like and won’t look like?

Regarding those little things in life: I was going to wear make-up every day and my hair would look good. I would wear clothes that matched. Wearing slippers in the middle of the day hadn’t occurred to me, and if it had I would have scoffed. I would maintain self-discipline and be healthy.

I started strong. I used to do a pretty impressive set of calisthenics every morning when I woke up and every evening before I went to bed. I had energy! I was slim! I could run 5 miles with only a little spitting!

But then, well, you know how it goes. Earlier this year I pulled a back muscle that had been taxed over the years with sporadic heavy lifting and shoveling. This time it led to back spasms and middle of the night deliberations on whether inhaling or turning was worth the price.

I can’t complain. After all, as I write, my mother is sitting in my living room in a back brace (for her compression fracture) watching Dr. Phil.

However, something needs to be done before I end up like the dear one in my living room. Don’t you think we should make the effort to be strong? To strengthen the weak? Lift up the fallen? I’m sure Jesus wants it of us. Those kinds of thoughts drifted through my mind as I lay on my back on a Pilates reform bar trying to see if the trainer was kidding when she said to put my feet into two small black cuffs. It was enough of a challenge to remember whether I was supposed to breathe out or in. The cuffs weren’t by my feet. They weren’t even by my knees. They were above my head. Above my head. 

I managed to do it (applause here). Apparently not as well as I thought, because we didn’t continue that exercise very long.

They say that the benefits of Yoga include better spatial memory, but I’m not a Hindu and I can remember where I put my car keys. Pilates, though? I really did like my free consultation. The lady was very nice to me and laughed only once. It was when I said “Good luck to me” just before the cuff effort. I might go back. I’ll keep you posted. I’ll tell you one thing, though. It’s easier to breathe when you’re driving home.

Image: smiling winter girl, public domain