You're Not Doing That Right

Why do certain people in yoga and Pilates classes always seem to think they are so much more advanced than they actually are? And why does it cheese me off so badly? And why do they never think the instructor is talking to them, despite the fact that they are doing the very thing the instructor is cautioning us not to do?

In my observation, there are two types of these posers and they are almost always women. Men are a minority in these classes and seem to realize their limitations pretty quickly, often staring in disbelief (as am I) when a new pose or movement is introduced.

First is Ms. Yoga/Pilates Queen. She feels she looks the part. She's got long, stringy hair and dresses in retro ironic t-shirts and yoga pants (and she really needs to shop for a looser fit). She's been doing these moves since she was born and really needs no further instruction. In fact, she'd prefer a more loosely structured pick-your-own-moves kind of class where she could strut around and swing her hair about and show off her superiority and elegance of movement. She is invariably late for class.

The other is Ms. Newbie. She could be wearing anything, but chances are it won't be good. She freely admits she has never so much as seen a yoga pose before. She acts all giggly and intimidated before class starts but immediately dives into and sticks with the most intense options, despite the instructor's repeated pleas for beginners to go with the less intense options and the constant call of corrections. She is taking the class because she has an event (possibly her wedding) in three weeks and wants to get her abs in shape (I am not making this up). She has something to prove. What and to whom is anyone's guess.

Mind you, these observations are coming from the ungainly, chubby chick in the middle of the room who always looks like she's judging you. I am.

I Blame the Y. And W/W.

Warning: Mild scatological references. Brace yo'self.

And X & Z for that matter. See, I skipped Pilates this morning for two reasons. Firstly, because I had a sudden onset of the tummy rumbles and had to rush home to the restroom. And secondly, because I had a sudden onset of the tummy rumbles and had to rush home to the restroom. I'll explain.

Reason #1: I take Pilates at the Y. There are no private restrooms at the Y. Nobody wants to have embarrassing bodily functions in a giant open room where people are showering and changing clothes and putting on makeup and drying their hair and so on. And the people who are showering and changing clothes and putting on makeup and drying their hair and so on certainly don't want anyone to have embarrassing bodily functions in that room. So I came home.

Reason #2: Today is weigh-in day. I was not best pleased. I didn't gain, but I didn't lose anything either. Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Goose egg. So, when the tummy rumbles came on, I couldn't help thinking about the fact that I had not yet consumed any food or beverage today and maybe after the, erm, evacuation I would have a better weigh-in result. Is this pathetic? Undoubtedly. Is it cheating? Probably. Do I care? Not a whit. So I came home.

So, you see, I think I'm perfectly justified in blaming the end letters of the alphabet. After all, it couldn't be my fault.