Out & About #697 | Thai Iced Tea + Sum Pilates Session #1 Recap

A wise man once declared the conversations most worth participation were those comprising of conflicting stances, for it is because of these differences that a broader perspective can be achieved.

​I wholly agree with this approach, consistently seeking feedback on everything from gifted baking experiments to reactions to dismal workplace encounters. The odd dilemma surfaces from time to time, and it is then that I purposely consult those with differing guiding compasses.

​​For two straight days, I was overcome with indecisiveness - a rarity, if I do say so myself - cast into a neverending loop of "should I?"s. The matter at hand were pilates classes, strictly offered in 10- or 20-class packages. ochungg had denied my rationale and earnest beseeching, leaving me to be tormented in a typhoon of turbulent thoughts.
The definite answer emerged shortly after. It had been harnessed within all along, yet triggered only upon hearing my own advice thrown before me.

I set out around noon on a breezy Saturday morning. It was a later start to my schedule than desired, leading me to settle on McWrap munching en route (not that I'd recommend this act in any shape or form). Pulling into the first stop of Pacific Mall, my mouth fell agape seeing the coiling queue of eager mall-goers. I quickly pulled into a spot and jumped in line.

Thankfully, the outdoor situation lasted no more than nine minutes in total. Soon, I found myself within the sheltered space, hand sanitizer awaiting my peeling hands and cracked digits yet again.
Most of the K-Beauty stores had been eliminated: Tony Moly, Missha, and several similar shops were no more; ARITAUM and Multi Brand, on the other hand, stood strong amidst the pandemic. 

​The main purpose of the detour was to obtain a phin from Dak Lak coffee. As luck would have it, not only was the product unavailable, I was further informed that the points card had been discontinued. That said, blank cards were visible in the store drawer; redemption of points collected to date would also be honoured. ​I took to a Thai Iced Tea before departing for Sum Pilates.

​​Travel time was surprisingly short from Pacific Mall, despite traversing along local roads. Normally, travelling west from Markham into Thornhill is quite grueling, however traffic volumes seemed to have decreased since my previous (pre-COVID) visit.

Sum Pilates was located on the second floor of a predominantly Persian commercial complex. Its exterior was quite unassuming and there was no signage indicating the studio's existence. At street level were several eateries and a Persian grocery store, where many had begun to queue for entry at my time of arrival.
Instead of mindlessly rolling forward in the car, I opted to park near Symposium and trek over. Upon closer inspection, the building numbers were clearly labelled, and, once inside 8131, a directory was available.

Two flights of stairs led up to a narrow hallway housing a handful of doors. Most were closed, instigating curiosity in those roaming past; the closest to the entrance was a doctor's office, not too unfamiliar from the medical building I grew up running the hallways of. The concept was highly similar to Meadowvale Professional Centre in terms of age of facility, layout, and amount of penetrable illumination, and could have potentially been constructed around same era given that these design elements had remained consistent. It remains unverified whether an elevator was present, raising the concern of accessibility. (The Meadowvale Professional Centre featured two at each end.)

​​The dark brown doors were devoid of decorations, with the exception of the "M" and "W" outside the men's and women's washrooms. Sum Pilates was an outlier with a knitted pink logo, mailbox, and business card holder, making it easy to distinguish Unit 204 amongst the mundane. With a jingle from the bells looped around the door knob, I made my - for once very punctual - entrance.

I was immediately welcomed by the member of staff positioned behind the desk. My jacket was directed in the direction of a coat rack, and my attention towards the registration paperwork. In the absence of an English version, I was guided through the Korean contract with real-time translation. It asked basic personal information, contact details, goals of sessions, preferred session slots, and listed conditions of entering into the program. The process was straightforward and, to my surprise, featured far fewer fine lines than franchises such as Crunch or Goodlife.

In-facility washrooms were unavailable - as with any medical complex - and thus I was provided the passcode for the shared stalls several doors down. Existing the establishment wasn't of great concern to me, though the absence of a changeroom was admittedly annoying.

​Following the first round of documentation, outdoor shoes were removed and situated on a rack by the door. I was then guided inside the facility; in the smaller of two rooms, the initial assessment commenced. I relayed my concerns surrounding poor biomechanics, noting the aspects most likely to affect and/or impede mobility. Interestingly enough, I was not inquired regarding the cause of such injuries, whether they were inherent or accident-associated, or whether I had undergone any prior forms of treatment. There was also no discussion regarding involvement in other sports or exercise routines, or even my existing level of physical activity. Instead of comprehending the past, the approach seemed to review existing conditions, inform the client of his or her physical deviations from the "neutral" state (preach awareness), and emphasize working towards the objectives identified (or rather, "assigned").

​The period of assessment was comparatively quick relative to those of physiotherapeutic nature, yet it appeared adequate in identifying areas of concern and improvement. Some known problems were reiterated, while a few new discoveries emerged.
We commenced with breathing techniques on a foam roller, graduating to a partial dead bug - a true testament of core control. Next were a series of leg/thigh, back, and arm exercises, all executed on one of the many reformers. Intriguing it was to perform exercises for the entire body while remaining on the same apparatus; the only variants were the addition of a block for sitting and altering the position of one's body. Embedded into the lower compartment of the machine were a series of springs. This introduction of tension is a personal preference for regaining and building strength, as free weights are more likely to result in injury in the case of misalignment and fatigue.

Question time was limited at the conclusion of the first fifty-five-minute session, as I was swiftly ushered out of the space to enable preparations for the next class. Clutching my belongings, I dashed out to retrieve my shoes from the rack; a vibrant bottle of Lysol spray passed me by in the process.
Payment occurred and the next classes were scheduled.

Afterthoughts

• The first class adopted the format of an assessment more than exercise, which was natural given that all information ought be gathered prior to formulating a plan of action and setting out to achieve specific objectives.
• Using a foam roller summoned core strength to maintain balance, all while promoting correct form in the lower back and pelvis. Any instance of non-compliance would result in stability, raising awareness in each breath, and each movement. Learning these fundamentals served to greatly enhance the effectiveness of later workouts, placing quality over quantity.
• Optimism was instilled with regard to muscle imbalances and existing conditions being rectified, or at least moderated for improved daily movement.

Hillcrest Mall was the subsequent - and final - stop of the day. Nearing the shopping centre, I was made aware of the Street Eats event being held in the Indigo parking lot. It was a great initiative to reduce volumes within enclosed areas while promoting spending and economic recovery, though less ideal for those searching for a space on the asphalt lot.

​I fulfilled my sole duty of bread acquisition at Saint Germain, then rustled back to the car for the leisurely consumption of a hot dog bun. Truthfully, it was more bun than dog. The same applies to the Pineapple Bun (and the frighteningly turquoise-tinted Matcha Red Bean Bun).