I saw a Yeti
I saw a Yeti the other day.
In the mirror. At Pilates. In the dim light:
A muscle in my calf.
It was there, I swear it was, thenā¦ it was gone. Would anyone believe me? Would I be called crazy? Would it make the news?
I used to love Pilates, but I quit a few years ago when life got busy. Then, on a whim two months ago, I decided to take a free intro class at Club Pilates.
I really thought it was going to convince me to reboot my Pilates practice at home, which I do on occasion in spurts. BUT. As I endured the next 50 minutes, I realized I needed an instructor to ā make me shake.
Within 5 minutes, my old life of thinking I could do a ābridgeā was long gone. My hamstrings voiced major concerns, and I lowered my rear back to the reformer out of pure necessity. The minute the instructor (Madi, pictured) looked away, I whimpered silently into my formerly-fit soul. What had become of me?
This makes it sound like I used to be a bodybuilder or something, and Iām going to quietly let you believe that.
The class proceeded, and I realized my arms were mere suggestions, my core nonexistent and my legs only enough to carry me around.
I wanted nothing more than to be done. To go to the parking lot and shake in private.
But I also didnāt want to feel that way again. So I signed up and began.
Itās been two months. And thatās when I noticed the Yeti muscle in the mirror. I was doing one of those damn bridges again and omg, I swear I saw it!
Some days I want to go to class, some days I donāt. Classes are not cheap but neither are muscles. Sometimes I think the cost makes me go. Then I go and see another Yeti muscle and think, no, THIS is why I go.
Now summer is almost here. I want to feel stronger on my bike. I want to squat down and grab the laundry with ease. I want to do things without thinking about doing them first. Iām glad I started two months ago, and Iāll be glad I keep going two months from now.
Pilates is hands down the best exercise I have ever found for my creaky back (my lower two vertebrae are fused) and my exercise headaches (I never get one doing it!). And I should say this too ā thereās something about BEING the woman who does Pilates.
Can I say this so you get what I mean?
Like getting up on a dreary April day and driving to the studio, saying hello to actual other humans, being in the quiet studio with no phone for an hour, then driving home slightly sweaty and slightly limber-ish ā I like the girl on the drive home.
Yes, it takes time and money. But what am I saving those for if I donāt feel good?
It has reminded me once again that growth is something I only find in the doing:
Lying still like that. Slowing down and āmoving through mudā and breathing and silence ā detached from everything except how your BODY feels ā is so rare.
Of course these moments can be disappointing ā the shaking! ā but for the most part itās a rush, a sense of realness: YOU are YOU.
You have the choice to be there, to move like this, to stretch that, to try again. And the improvements come each week, each class. So tiny, yes! But over time, so much.
I have a Yeti muscle now, need I say more.
And I love that I am the woman who takes care of herself in this way. Who gets up and drives in and gives herself that space two or three times a week.
Itās time-consuming, but who would I be without it? Fine, sure. But I kind of like who I am becoming with it, more.
XO,
Kandace
Kandace Chapple is a writer from Northern Michigan. For the last 25 years, she has hosted womenās events, magazines and conversations centered around womenās lives and shenanigans. She is the founder of Michigan Girl, a community platform with more than 3,600 Facebook members and a growing Substack readership of more than 2,500 subscribers.
Her work has appeared in Writerās Digest, Motherwell, Chicken Soup for the Soul and regional publications throughout the Midwest. She also teaches writing.
She lives in Northern Michigan with her husband, two sons, two Golden Retrievers ā and a mountain bike.
