So My Doctor Said Pilates Would Be ‘Fine’… And That Was My First Mistake

You know how sometimes your doctor suggests something super chill like, “Oh, you should try Pilates. It’s low impact. It’ll be good for your back that you injured in the military.” And you, a trusting, innocent soul, think to yourself, “Yeah, that sounds gentle… like yoga’s quieter cousin with less chanting.”

Spoiler alert: I was lied to.

Chapter One: The Decision

Let’s set the scene.

Doctor: "With your knee pain and fractured spine, I really recommend a low-impact strength routine. Maybe try Pilates!

"Me: "Pilates? Isn’t that the thing people do on a mat with soft music and really good socks?"

Doctor: "Exactly. It’ll be easy on your body. You’ll love it."

Did I Google “Pilates for beginners” with the naive excitement of a woman who owns a yoga mat but hasn’t unrolled it since 2019? Absolutely.

Did I click on a 30-minute YouTube video titled “Gentle Pilates for First Timers”? You bet I did.

Did I almost call 911 twenty minutes in when my inner thighs started speaking Latin backwards? …We’ll get to that.

Chapter Two: Welcome to the Mat of Doom

I set the mood: dim lighting, water bottle, leggings I regretted 6 minutes in.

The instructor greeted me through the screen like she wasn’t about to destroy my soul with a smile.

She said things like:

• “Engage your core.” — Ma’am, it is engaged. It’s just… confused.

• “You’ll feel a gentle burn.” — Okay but WHY is it in my armpits?

• “Let’s do tiny pulses.” — I thought this was Pilates, not tiny hellfire squats for eternity.

  
  

By minute 12, my legs were shaking like a toddler who just discovered sugar.

By minute 17, I questioned every life decision that led me here.

By minute 21, I was bargaining with a higher power: “If I survive this, I promise to stretch more and stop ignoring the foam roller.”

Chapter Three: The Aftermath

No one warns you that after one Pilates session, the act of existing becomes a core workout.

I sneezed the next morning and had to lie down.

Putting on pants? Full-body event.

Lifting my water bottle? Felt like I was benching a Buick.

Sitting on the toilet? Don’t talk to me about it. Just… don’t.

But here’s the kicker:

Once the soreness faded and I stopped making “old person” noises every time I moved, I realized…I kinda loved it.

Chapter Four: Why I’m Still Doing It (Even If I’m Bitter About It)

Despite the betrayal, despite the muscle groups I didn’t know existed now being awake and angry — Pilates is kind of a vibe.

• It is low impact (once you learn to breathe and not die).

• It does make you feel strong in sneaky ways.

• And those slow, controlled movements? They humble you real fast. In a good way.

Plus, I finally understand why those reformer machines look like medieval torture devices.

Because they are.

But like… in a toned-booty, better-posture, “look at me planking for 30 seconds” kind of way.

Final Thoughts:

So yes, my doctor said it would be “fiiiiine.”

And after some sobbing, sore glutes, and a questionable relationship with my Pilates instructor’s cheerful tone…It actually is.

But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to roll off the couch using only my elbows and dignity.

Tried Pilates and survived? Still recovering? Tell me your favorite curse word you invented during “leg circles” in the comments. Misery loves company. 🧘‍♀️🔥