PTM School: Day 5

I always seem to be late for these classes.

As a result I frequently trip on the first step of the second flight of stairs up to the studio.

There really is no need. It’s taped in bright yellow tape and you’d think I knew by now, but it’s a slow learn this one and I have made a thundering crash everytime I charge up the stairs to be on time.

Just thought I’d warn you when you go 🙂

Today was a small group equipment class with Rachel.

There were 4 of us. All different levels and abilities, but it didn’t matter as we were only ever working on a piece of equipment on our own.

We started the chair. Whilst I had great plans at the time to remember all that Rachel told us about it, no sooner had I started using it than all that was forgotten. It’s the first time where I’d really felt like I’d really worked.

Not that the other stuff has been easy. Far from it. But using the equipment made me much more thoughtful about how I’d want to be better at it, whereas the mat based classes I wasn’t bothered about improving in (even though I know it would be good for me).

We did one exercise where I found it made me surprisingly nauseous. Not from puffing-panting exertion, but the work of stabilising my food and ankle was really hard work. I really got a sweat on whilst standing pretty much still today 🙂

We then moved to a very small piece of kit called a foot corrector. We had to do some pretty simple moves pushing the domed like platform down with our toes, ball of foot or heel. My word it was tricky but the feeling in your foot afterwards was lovely! It felt all open and flat and light. It was very nice.

Finally Rachel had us lying on the Cadillac machines doing all sorts of legs-akimbo, rolling with a stick behind our legs and working our arms and abs with the bar.

The hour definitely went quicker in this session and my feet felt great. I had a distinct feeling of having done something without being exhausted and, for the first time really thought that it was something I felt I would like to get better at (that’s the grunty, weight lifting girl in me).