So far, I thought that the Ron Fletcher work was absolutely incredible! The Fletcher work was better organized, the teachers seemed more knowledgeable, professional, the exercises more advanced, creative; Here, I was studying with a man who was in the same room with Joe and Clara Pilates. I mean seriously, what wasn’t to like? Being a bit of a historical romantic, I could have listened to Ron talk all day about the dozens of celebrities and society elite that he had gotten to work with. I mean, Ali McGraw, Sandy Duncan, Ben Vereen, Candace Bergen, Betty Ford……..and the list continued, had all been to Ron’s Hollywood studio at one time or another. At the moment, I was just very impressed with everything that I had seen from this group so far. These Fletcher teachers worked with that elite level of clientele that I wanted coming to my studio. I wasn’t happy being JUST a Pilates teacher…I wanted to be this level of a Pilates teacher.
As Day two began, I was beginning to get the gist of how the Fletcher people did things. The standard uniform color was black. Black leggings, black leotard, black unitard or a combination of black with black….you get the idea. Hair had to be pulled off of the face, either in a ponytail or in a hair clip. All bags and personal items were to be kept off of the floor and stored in a designated location. There was no eating, gum chewing, socks or wearing any jewelry that was considered distracting. There was a protocol with this group, almost like a seniority system that I thought was interesting. No one spoke out of turn, unless they were asked.
Every workshop would start with Pat at the front of the room starting us off with a few breathing and movement patterns, sometimes with the towel…….sometimes without. Everything that was taught, had a beginning, a middle, and an end that were connected with something that Ron called a “goesinta” You know one piece of movement GOES…….IN…….TO the next one. Get it? I thought it was cute.
The second day of the workshop was definitely going to be a challenge for me. After yesterday’s introduction to the Fletcher work on the reformer, I felt like I had gone a couple of rounds with a cage fighter. My muscles were so sore, that it hurt to wear clothes. My arms felt like someone had beaten me with a bat, and my thighs hurt to touch them. Standing still wasn’t so bad, but moving…..that took some effort. I tried not to focus on the pain as I lifted my towel out in front of my body and pulled. I was able to understand some of those survival stories that you read about in Reader’s Digest where someone gets mauled by a bear, and they survive for days by imagining that they have gone to their happy place until help arrives. So there I was in MY happy place lifting and lowering my towel, which wasn’t too bad, until Pat suddenly added a lunge; yes, a lunge. My thigh muscles were screaming ”are you kidding me,” as I lunged to the right with the rest of the class, and then ouch, back to center; and then I lunged to the left, and then ouch, back to the center. Next a side bend was added to the lunge, which at that point, I was surprised that I didn’t lose consciousness.
I managed to survive the first half of the day with the help of a few Motrin and a Vente Carmel Macchiato from Starbucks. Really, it only hurt when I tried to breathe, move or blink. I am sure that you can imagine the look on my face when it was announced that we would be working on the reformer’s after lunch. “Didn’t we do that yesterday”, I thought. Ok, I can get through this, after all, it couldn’t be any worse than what we did yesterday…..could it?
Well, Of course it could be.
The piece of movement was called “progressive plies”. It was a slow, precise and progressive series of movements that involved straightening and bending the knees. You started with one inhale to straighten the knees in one movement; and then you progressed to two inhales, and you straightened the knees in two movements; and so on until you were taking 10 inhales and you had broken that one movement into ten little steps to straighten your knees one time. It looked like it was going to hurt as I watched the first group of teachers move through the progressions, especially when Pat cued them to add “pulses”; which involved more straightening and bending of the knees…….. except it moved faster. “Oh, this is going to suck”, I thought to myself.
My muscles were really too sore to be doing this, but I got the feeling that a Fletcher teacher never passed on an opportunity to participate. I am sure that there was something written in the bylaws somewhere that addressed that topic. As I passed through the 5th progression of “progressive plies,” the possibility that I may need the aid of the paramedics or the Canadian mounted police to help me down the steps had entered my mind.
I somehow managed to survive the second day of the workshop, progressive plies and all, with the images of a hot shower, a couple of Motrin, a glass of wine, and a nice soft bed waiting for me back at the hotel.
I woke up the next morning sorer than I was the day before, which I didn’t think was possible. My god, it hurt to sit on the toilet. I had to brace myself and take a deep breath before I made contact with the seat. It felt like my ass was one big purple bruise, but a check in the mirror showed not even the smallest of marks. As I stood there staring at my ass in the mirror for a few minutes, I could have sworn that it looked firmer than it did the day before. Maybe it was swollen? Well, I was certain that once the swelling went down, my ass was going to look fabulous. I wasn’t sure if trading the ability to sit down without crying out in pain for; I was sure the next 30 days, was something that I could sell to my clients as a way to give them back the ass of a 25 year old; but maybe I could come up with a scaled down version of the exercise.
The workshop ended and I thanked Pat and Ron for everything that I had learned while I was there, although my brain hadn’t had time to process exactly what that was yet. The next workshop was going to be in Vancouver, British Columbia in February, 2002.
Sounded good to me….I’ll see you in February.
Recent Comments