Jesus Christ Super Star

It's been quite a busy week body-wise.

This happens as you get on in years. Things start to miss fire.Tappets become worn and the sump fills up with crap.

Anyway, last Friday I saw my consultant ( I haven't told you this already?). It's me joints. Usually when we meet, I'm hugely positive - nothing to complain about: playing squash, long walks, a regular work out at the allotment and not a twinge, not the slightest sign of stiffness or swelling (now, behave yourselves!). But last Friday it was a catalog of woes. My back's stiff, I have aches here, there and everywhere and I'm out of breath climbing stairs. I blamed that on my medication.

He was shocked. I could tell 'cause he stopped tweeting. I was offered a stark choice. A syringe full  of  steroids into my bum or....Pilates. I've had steroids before; not a happy sight. So I took a deep breath, well as deep as I could, and  said "O.K. Pilates".

There's a new fitness centre opened up near us. They do Pilates. I called and booked an hour session for Tuesday evening. Not a problem, I regularly used a gym three or four times a week, ran regularly....20 odd years ago. But fitness was not my major concern. What to wear. I have a few tee shirts and embarrassingly small shorts which are OK for single sex games of squash but leave little to the imagination in a tight situation. My wife came to the rescue and I'm now the proud possessor of a pair of TOWIE track suit bottoms. Cool or what?

They're a lovely bunch; my fellow Pontius Pilates. I was greeted by Tigger -  I thought she'd bounced  thro' the ceiling such was her coiled up energy. I was the only man...I now know what it's like to be an ethnic minority. They were all in their 20's. Frankly, I wanted to hug them all and tell them not to worry, exams aren't everything.

Our instructor was from Edinburgh and she was fit - in a non sexual sort of way. There she was in this large echoing room with "Within You, Without You" playing just at my hearing threshold. All sinews and taut muscles.. and there we were 8 or 9 young women and me on mats.

I'm in my late 60's with bones that have been to the Isle of Wight in 1970, traipsed across  the US of A in the late 70's and hung out in San Franscisco. So my body have seen life and how, man. Except it wasn't too clued up on drawing your belly button into your spine or lifting your buttocks through your anus and onto your "core being".

I know all about hippiness, I can tell you, but this was way beyond the call of duty. I persevered. I just held that thought in my mind " You've paid for this".

After an hour, it stopped. I gingerly rose to my feet, after uncoupling a couple of joints, smiled encouragingly at my class mates and headed home. Not a twitch the next day. After one session I feel a new man, fit, supple and happy. I'm back there next week. Nothing to do with the twenty somethings - it's all about  pelvic strength.

Take my advice.If you're looking for a date, forget about on line or speed dating. Join a Pilates session. Or a Yoga group. There was a Yoga session before us. There was one man in a group of fifteen women  and at the end he looked completely shagged out.