Dear Jim:
Well at last I have achieved perfection in all aspects of my disintegrating body. Nothing hurts and I have never been in better shape. In addition to not drinking, smoking, looting and pillaging or anything else that is fun I am now a new Pilates convert.
Here are a few safety tips when doing Pilates or showing off your new found flexibility to friends at dinner parties.
When you are lying on your back, spread eagle position with your legs straight out held by your feet wrapped in straps it is really good to remember to wear shorts with a lining.
When you lie down in a door frame to show how you can push your leg flat up the wall you should try to do it wearing socks. No one warned me that the heels of your shoes leave black marks that require repainting to remove!
Similarly when you are standing beside a dining room table and want to demonstrate that you can put your leg sideways flat on the table without crying out in pain you want to be sure the place settings and particularly the butter dish have been removed.
You think jumping is easy? I am an action hero jumper in my mind and could leap over a 10 foot fence without using my hands. Try to stand on both feet and jump on to a ball that is 8 inches off the ground. Can’t be done!
Try not to do your session when there are women in the room. Nothing puts you off more than people laughing and pointing when you are trying to concentrate.
An hour is an hour except when you are doing Pilates when it is two hours. You will find yourself disoriented and you need to give yourself time for your muscles to stop their spasms before you try and pick anything up.
I have grabbed on to Pilates like a drowning man reaches out for a piece of seaweed. This will continue until I pull something or something breaks off or falls off and then I will look for the next new, new thing. With this new state of body I am now moved in to full maintenance mode. Now to be clear this is not the program I followed for the past 30 years when I used to visit the doctor and a few specialists every year or two . They would pat me on the back and tell me “Good Boy” and send me on my way and I would pick up a quart of Grey Goose for the ride home. This is like keeping a 1978 Mustang in fine working condition where parts are hard to find and rot has set in to the main frame.
I have more people involved in my maintenance program than I had working for me when I qualified for the Young Presidents’ Organization. My Chiropractor, Nero- Surgeon (back guy), Physio-therapist, Pilates Coach, Osteopath and Massage Therapist are all on regular weekly and bi-weekly visits. My Internist, Urologist (two of these), Dermatologist, MRI, CAT scan and Anal prober seem to require quarterly visits at least. My dentist is paired up with a Gum specialist so that I’m always gearing up for that pleasant cleaning process and wait for “your teeth are fine but your gums will have to come out.” I won’t even mention my Nutritionist who has removed any food from my diet that tastes good. Blood work is done twice a year for fun and more often for reasons I can’t figure out. I have a monthly parking pass at the Royal Victoria Hospital and the Jewish. My pharmacist thinks he is a member of my family and wants to come for Xmas dinner. My speed dial has no room for friends or family.
When we go out for dinner with friends we have had to add an hour to the visit so that everyone can explain the latest treatment revelation in their lives before we solve the problems of Greece or Wall Street. Normal aches and pains are not allowed for discussion. Only things that require operations or that are life threatening are really interesting except I find that medical gossip is nowhere near as much fun as the other kind that used to dominate our dinner conversations.
So you put this all together and I guess this solves the mystery of what people do as they get on. It gets even better since everyone who takes an appointment wants to call you to confirm the appointment …your phone is always ringing off the hook.
Ah…the Golden Years…
The only thing that is really going to tick me off is if I die suddenly and all my overweight, semi-alcoholic do- nothing friends live to be 100, giggling all the way. If I haven’t figured out a way to communicate at the time please promise me that you will tell them I hate them in my Eulogy.
Bill Meder
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