Body Balance E-Book

alastair macleod

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

"Inga had never been to the Wednesday class until today. It was the school holidays and her husband was watching the kids. Although Lin Chan was probably about twenty-eight, she was small, and moved with a natural grace. She was dark and very slim. She had the body of a child, thought Inga. Lin wore a loose blue wrap over jacket and loose trousers, while on her feet were small blue embroidered slippers. When Lin spoke, her not quite perfect English made them listen attentively.
Her routine appeared at first like one long warm up – slow studied movements carefully choreographed, using arms and legs. Inga soon found that it was as demanding the other sessions. It required strength; it left you energised as the other exercise did, but somehow without sweating or getting out of breath"

Leseprobe

Alastair Macleod

Body Balance

with other stories

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

BODY BALANCE

Inga quickly changed for her body balance class. She valued this class. She felt it was keeping her figure and keeping her supple.

It was Thursday; Kim Loden was the instructor today. There was a rota -, Tuesdays Sophie Fotheringhame, Wednesdays Lin Chan, on Thursday Kim. During term Inga could only manage on Tuesday and Thursday.

The class met in the new sports centre. Contrary to her husband’s male fantasy the women who attended were a variety of shapes. and ages. Nor were they clad in pink single piece lycra. Grey or blue tops, stretch trousers, bare feet.

Kim Loden had been a kick boxer someone said. That explained her tight lithe muscular body and rapid movements. She wore a stars and stripes top with red spangly trousers. After the warm up, the pace was fierce. Kim had once explained her philosophy to the group “in my class you’ll know that you’re burning off all those chocolate biscuits and pieces of cake”.

Into the routine, the women all moving in unison. Yet there was always one, sometimes two, who moved left when the others moved right. Movement dyslexics, thought Inga, a primary teacher. In the spirit of inclusiveness no one said anything even the instructor.

You became familiar with peoples bottoms as they stretched and even wobbled in front of you. There wasn’t the regular spaced breathing of athletes; - there were sighs, sharp intakes of air and even groans. In at least one routine there was the audible crack of unwilling bones.

Interspersed between the aerobic bits were the stretching exercises. These had curious names until you did them. The eagle, the triangle, the sheep. With all this shaking about there was one bodily function that was being suppressed by many of the women .Indeed the whole session became a meditation exercise to not let it out, but the Frog tested even the best meditators. In the Frog you crouched like a frog your hands flat on the floor your hind legs bent and your bottom in the air. Then you flexed and arched your back so your bottom was raised and lowered in the process. This always proved too much for someone. Occasionally delicate, sometimes not, the sound sang out amongst the heavy breathing and the groans. Inga felt it difficult not to laugh.

It was different on Tuesdays, so different that some missed out Kim’s Thursday class with its slight air of masochism.

On Tuesdays Sophie Fotheringhame set a more ethereal tone. Sophie had been ballet trained before taking up aerobics. She was tall and fair, not particularly slim now after having three children. Her loose brown silk top was offset by her stretch yellow trousers .From slow warm up exercises the class then moved into elegant limb movements, a sort of Burmese dancing complete with facial expressions. The session always ended with each woman putting her hands together in a prayer posture and Sophie would pay homage to the goddess by saying “Namaste”. At first few of them said it but it felt quite nice to say it together so now they all joined in.

Inga had never been to the Wednesday class until today. It was the school holidays and her husband was watching the kids. Although Lin Chan was probably about twenty-eight, she was small, and moved with a natural grace. She was dark and very slim. She had the body of a child, thought Inga. Lin wore a loose blue wrap over jacket and loose trousers, while on her feet were small blue embroidered slippers. When Lin spoke her not quite perfect English made them listen attentively.