In the 80s aerobics was hot. Jane Fonda and those lovely scrunchy socks, the full-body suits and the thong-like overpants. The faster you pumped, the better.

The 90s rolled by me as I rolled by it on my bike (I lived eight miles from University and rode my bike to and fro every day ~ in the snow, uphill, both ways). Ha ha.

The decade following Y2K was filled with raising babies into children who could tie their shoes (and roll their eyes ~ mostly at me). By 2008 I had discovered Pilates.

Ah, the beauty of the slow motion Pilates requires. It asks for the slow burn, the simple movements and charitable forgiveness when you cannot reach your toes as you once did.

Today I closed my eyes throughout many of the exercises in my Pilates class. The taut-bellied size 0 instructor has a way about her that is most nurturing. I smiled from the inside out as I actually asked my body “What do you want today? Does this feel good? Where does my stress reside?”

It was a mystical moment, right there on the mat amongst the others who enjoy the sanctity of slow exercise.

The next time you find yourself in motion, close your eyes (okay, not when you are driving) and you may find you see the world through the feelings slow motion brings.

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