Mari Winsor is a sadist

So, last night after work I decided to make good use of my laundry time by breaking out the old Mari Winsor Accelerated Body Sculpting Pilates DVD. I was feeling particularly large and full and figured I might as well do something active while my whites were washing. Good plan.

Now I remember why I stopped doing Mari's Pilates in the first place. Not only are some of the moves extremely hard to master, they're humiliating! There I was, lying on my back with one knee pulled into my chest and my other leg pointed straight out, just like Mari said. "Now, switch. Great," says Mari. "And now let's do 10 fast. For a challenge." For a challenge, or for your own demonic pleasure, Mari? My money's on the latter.

The bones in my back simply don't like Pilates, even on a nice cushy mat. Also, my stomach muscles aren't all that strong at the moment. As a result, I lay there, wincing, like a helpless and frantic turtle hoping someone would happen by and roll me back over. All the while, Mari's just standing there. Staring at me with that evil smile on her face. Why do you hate me, Mari? Why must you mock me so? What did I ever do to you?

So, today I paid for last night's folly. My stomach is freaking killing me, and every time I laugh I get a fresh reminder of the horror of this and this and this and this. Surely humans aren't meant to move this way?