Getting fit, London, Mummy stuff, Pregnancy, Yummy Mummy

Beautcamp Pilates. It hurts so good.

Beautcamp Pilates

Brave enough to look what's behind that door?

In the glorious wobble-free days before baby, I have been known to be a little obsessed with exercise. I used to run before work, go for a swim after work and spent my lunch breaks on a reformer. Now, if you are thinking I would have been getting steamy with a protestant in between finishing a PowerPoint presentation and grabbing a sandwich  – shame on you for your dirty thoughts, you naughty little things!

I am talking about Pilates on a reformer-machine.

Trainer Dmitri. Trying to copy my moves. Pfffff...

Trainer Dmitri. Trying to copy my moves. Pfffff...

It is easily the best workout I have ever done in my whole life. And the most effective, too. Initially I was looking to cure my reoccurring backache. My osteopath happened to be in the same building as the Pilates studio and recommended to try a class or two. I went downstairs to knock on the door, but the music was so loud that nobody would hear me to let me in. Loud music in a Pilates studio? Not what I was expecting.

Dmitri Tkatchev2

He is doing it again. Bless his cotton socks!

It took one more year and a decent amount of fate to make me knock on that door again. My own office moved into said building. Onto the same floor. Opposite the studio. But only when my backache returned and I read yet another article about how Beautcamp Pilates gave you the bikini body you (read: I) was longing for, I decided to take the plunge.

Metropolitan Sweat. Just before she crumbled into pieces.

Metropolitan Sweat. Just before she crumbled into pieces.

I haven’t regretted it since.* Actually, I became an addict, working out up to eight months pregnant. And as soon as little L had settled into her nursery, I returned.

*Admittedly, I regularly do regret it the day after when my arms hurt so much that I can’t brush my hair, or getting up the stairs is so painful that I consider crashing on the kitchen floor. Also, it’s much more pleasant to spend your time sitting in the sunshine at Ottolenghi and indulging in a café latte accompanied by a slice of apricot cake. But as they say: no pain, no gain.

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