This pilates lark — I’m literally out on a limb

IDEFY all the odds. I’ve been doing pilates for beginners for two years now. And it’s getting harder. Surely that can’t be right? I would have thought you should be able to move on to intermediate pilates, then top-notch pilates, then instructor-level pilates, right?

But no. I’m in a weakness after a few minutes and I’m still in the beginners’ class.

Most of the people there are older folk — it’s a bit like the Specsavers ad when the half-blind instructor goes into the wrong class and starts teaching old folk a strenuous dance routine instead of bingo.

There’s a lot of sighing and moaning and if I close my eyes I can imagine I’m at an orgy. (I might add, in case my kids are reading, I’ve never been at an orgy.)

I can’t stay sitting up straight on the floor. I turn into a rounded auld wan within two minutes. Pathetic. I like the easier routines, like when our lovely instructor tells us to stand and just move our necks from side to side. Although I do become a tad upset when he says to bring your chin down to touch your collar bone. I feel tempted to ask him to which chin he is referring. It’s all very well for someone with one chin.

The fact that I play poker every Sunday night and my class is Monday morning doesn’t help. Because when he asks us to stand on one leg and close our eyes I turn into a basket case, flying across the room with all dignity gone. Some are like me and some are flamingo-like, but why am I always in the marginalised gang. The eejity one.

I suppose I should be practising at home. I did buy a mat in Lidl some time ago and it’s in pristine condition. Still in the cellophane. Maybe I should be at bingo.