Monkeying Around

One to two times a week, a group of coworkers and I take a short lunch in order to take time out and work out. We use the company’s gym which doubles as a storage room, so occasionally there is foot traffic. One of my coworkers is a Pilates instructor. I am new to this. The first time I took this class, I realized very quickly that for a first-timer, Pilates is code for “OW OW OW OW!” It involves a lot of stretching in ways that most of us are not used to. And while most of us can recite the benefits of regular exercise by heart, I have found one that I did not know.

I was told that some of these exercises are good for depression. I was skeptical. We were instructed to lay on our backs with our feet straight up, and using our arms, to lift our backsides off the mat so that now only our upper backs and up were on the ground and the rest was straight up: the candle position. And lying there, with a group of women who otherwise typically only see the professional (okay, semi-professional) side of me, I realized that it was true. Pilates must be good for depression. There is no way not to giggle when you’re in such odd positions and a startled non-Pilates coworker walks in the room. I may not be sold on the science, but I’m definitely sold on the silly.