In my ongoing quest to get healthier and lose a significant portion of my mass I've been hitting the gym four to five days a week (I still can't convince myself to go on a Saturday).
I had already destroyed myself with a free personal training session, so when the receptionist suggested I try a complimentary pilates session I was intrigued.
Well, okay, not intrigued. I had no idea what pilates is. I honestly thought it was something pregnant women did. I don't mean to judge, I'm just saying I had no idea what it entailed. But I figured at the worst I'd get a free session and best case scenario I'd find a new workout I could use.
I quickly discovered that "pilates" must be latin for "awkward," as my session consisted of a small, petite dancer named Jackie who was far more attractive than me throwing me around a machine and showing me the proper way to clench my ass and thrust my hips while battling elastic bands and springs designed to strengthen my core. All of this in a room with mirrored walls so we could perfectly see that I had no idea what I was doing.
It didn't really feel like much of a workout, but when I got up from the apparatus I was completely soaked through with sweat. Jackie gave me the usual pitch about signing up for 10 more sessions (Just $1200!) and I said I'd think about it, which everyone knows means there's no way in hell I'm doing that. I threw Kat under the bus and mentioned to Jackie that my fiance might be interested in a complimentary session.
"Well, if you want to bring her in we could set up a tag team."
"Tag team pilates. Some couples and friends do it. You'll both go through a session together. It makes it much more fun."
That's not what I thought (hoped?) she meant at first, but I told her I'd consider it.
Surprisingly, Kat wasn't amused when I got home and suggested we go tag team my pilates teacher.