PILATES

fit flash fic

Deb calmed her down.

Deb had subbed out her afternoon classes to younger instructors (two Rockettes, neither of whom Grace trusted), while still retaining her early morning power block (6 a.m., 7 a.m., 8 a.m.). And so, Grace found herself waking up before the sun, having slept in clean workout clothes the night before, grabbing Dunkin’ from the shop a block from the studio (a large iced coffee with almond milk and two Splendas). She nodded to the front desk as she shuffled in, borrowed a mat, and set it up in her spot: back left corner, away from the door.

We’ll be using the ball today, Deb announced upon entrance, gliding in and smiling at everyone like a pageant queen. A ball and one set of light weights. Deb was properly awake, as if she didn’t need sleep the night before. Students gathered their equipment, dressed in pajama-like sweats, still hazy. Grace relaxed on her back, turning to her left for large sips of the iced coffee.

And then it began: deep breathing in unison. The inhales through the nose, the exhales through the mouth.

Deb’s keynote, her little chat before the movement began. Be present, she implored. Let whatever you experienced before this moment evaporate. Let all of your post-class expectations evaporate. Be here now. The class let out a collective sigh.

They began in a primal cat-cow, arching and rounding their backs, swirling their necks and hips as they pleased. Deb stretched them out at the start with hip circles and shoulder rolls. Lubricate the spine, she encouraged, and find new centimeters of movement.

Once they were warm, she led them through a fifteen minute abdominal sequence using the ball; by the end Grace was panting and twitching and had a stomach ache. Sensing this, Deb took them through a stretch: a cobra to open up the belly, a child’s pose to quiet the mind.

They then sat, weights in hand, for upper body. Pulse, pulse, pulse, Deb commanded, followed by circle, circle, circle. Grace didn’t like facing forward this way, witnessing the others out-pulse and out-circle her. She didn’t like seeing her own form in the mirror, with her shoulders hunched and her bed head apparent, so when they returned supine, it was a relief.

Another ab series, a glutes blitz. They tucked and lifted and squeezed and somehow her legs felt twitchy and heavy again. But on cue, Deb coaxed them through a release, through deep breaths meant to loosen their hips, because hips hold emotions, Deb reminded them. If you’re in pigeon and you start to cry, just know it’s okay.

Grace didn’t cry in pigeon, opting instead to grit her teeth and brace herself. The muscles on the sides of her legs felt like they were tearing apart and her knee cracked. The further she leaned over them, the more they hurt.

Deb came over and squatted down in front of Grace’s mat to assess the situation. Deb stretched her arms out, and the two held onto each other’s wrists like climbers might. Leveraging Grace’s weight, Deb lifted her up and out of her hips.

Grace relaxed completely, looking to her mat as a tear dropped, making a small splash. Wordlessly, she bowed to Deb before leaving class, and Deb bowed back.