Nature's way
Last week, as I stepped out into the warm air after teaching a regular client, I remarked, "It's like a summer's day." To which my client, somewhat less prone to banal chat than me, replied, "Well, it is still August."
It almost came as a shock to me, so long has this summer seemed, that it is, in fact, still summer. In my defence, nature seems to have lost track a bit as well. The blackberries were all ripe a month ago and brown leaves are already crunching underfoot.
I know this is all starting to sound like the nature notes column in The Daily Beast, but my work does have a surprisingly seasonal nature. It ebbs and flows in a manner that I like to imagine resembles a farmer, gardener or some other horny-handed son of toil.
In January, I sow the seed of exercise in the soil of New Year's resolutions. That lasts until spring, when those of a more easily-distracted nature drift away to do things like going out and meeting other people. After a while, thoughts of the coming summer and having to wear a swimming costume in public are usually enough to bring them back to Pilates.
When the schools break up, parents and grandparents have other little things to give them a workout until the end of the summer, when Pilates starts to feature again in people's minds. Then, around mid-December, Christmas parties, shopping and assorted louche behaviour divert the unwary from the Pilates path.
And so it repeats. I rather like it, as the seasonal changes bring some colour and variety to my classes, just as they do in nature.
If your own Pilates has rather dried out over the summer, it might be time to let the first few drops of rain water it again.
As always, you can join me from the comfort of your own home, without having to worry about traffic, parking, changing rooms or, indeed, whether anyone has noticed that you are doing Pilates in your pyjamas.
The classes are live, friendly and suitable for a range of abilities, with recordings available for seven days afterwards if life gets in the way at the appointed hour.
The leaves are turning. The conkers are swelling. The questing vole is passing, feather-footed, through the plashy fen. And somewhere, beneath all that summer foliage, your Pilates mat is waiting patiently to be unearthed.
For more details and to book, click here to go to the online classes page of my website.
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