Out & About #731 | Sum Pilates Session #5 Recap, Hanyang Jokbal + Pacific Mall

Upon being made aware of Ontario's entry into Step 3, I had eagerly reached out to my pilates instructor in hopes of attending class at the next available slot. The studio asked all clientele to be completely vaccinated prior to booking, which was a reasonable requirement in any capacity.

I was also notified that my instructor would pursuing opportunities elsewhere, with her last day at Sum being the 31st of the month. Wherefore I was quick to schedule two sessions with her, as transitions are never truly seamless.

Giddy with anticipation and excitement, I set out with ample buffer for congestion along the way. Arriving fifteen minutes in advance of the class, I headed for the bathroom, only to realize I had forgotten the passcode. Peeping into the waiting area of the studio, I located the digits in question. Success was not realized. I pressed and turned the knob, until my palm reddened and I could turn no more. Diving back into the studio, I verified the numbers before one final attempt. The result was the same.
Two doors down was the men's bathroom. Drawing sharp glances in each direction, I listened for signs of activity, then entered the passkey and warily poked my head in. Vacant.

Moving rapidly, I washed my hands then immediately secured myself in a stall. Within millisecond, the door opened. From the creak of the door, a figure could be spotted before the sink. Sounds of brusque teeth-brushing, mouth-rinsing, and spitting followed. I held my breath, hoping for the figure's swift departure, and for no further entrants. My silent prayers were answered, and I slipped back into the corridor without crossing paths with another being.

The session commenced with breathing - a nod to the basics addressed in my very first class. Then ensued a series of "hundreds" on the Cadillac. My abhorrent shoulder and neck pain were discussed, at which point I mentioned the ultimate cause of my stress and recent physio visit. In response to this rigidity, I was guided through a side-lying stretch for shoulder and chest. Used to target arm mobility, the arm would be outstretched and rotated about the body, forming a semi-circle.

We then revisited the rollup, incorporating more dynamic movements along the way. Pausing halfway, rolling all the way down, then curling back up was effective in improving core control. While in the tabletop position, I was advised that the bent legs could be brought in past the hips (less than 90 degrees) to reduce lower back pain due to a weak core.
A tabletop-to-bicycle move was then executed for the transverse and lower abdominal muscles. With the head rested and legs in tabletop position, one leg would be extended at 45 degrees, while the other was summoned towards the hip. Clasped hands would press against the bent leg for resistance. I was recommended to focus on bending one leg - the left - to compensate for pelvic tilt and navigate towards a greater degree of symmetry.
I also worked on back and lat strength in both seated and kneeling positions on the Cadillac. The tension bar would be pulled down towards the side of the ribs to activate the muscles supporting proper posture.

Moving onto the Reformer, I performed "hundreds" with arm bands - one round with light tension, and the second round with heavier tension rods affixed. Partial pulses were introduced as well. Another variation of the hundreds involved a partially deflated ball tucked underneath the knees; I would bring the knees out, then back in while exercising core control. The move entailed some discomfort in the hip flexor, particularly the left, however I was informed that this was likely due to pelvic tilt and could be rectified via the tabletop-to-bicycle move.
Sitting on top of the Reformer box, a series of exercises were conducted for the upper body, including flyouts with tension-affixed arm bands.

For the first time in nearly four months, I maneuvered towards the Barrel. I was guided through oblique-targeting moves with candlestick dipper vibes. With the hip positioned on the Barrel, feet split, and arms crossed in front of the chest, I bent away from my feet until the body (trunk) was straight, then returned to the starting position with shoulders at the same level. A series of successful right side curls earned, despite it being the weaker side. I was instructed to replicate the move on the other side, but was allowed to attempt bending past the straightened position before curling back with the core engaged. Needless to say, the modification introduced greater difficulty. Leading with outstretched arms over the head could also be used to increase difficulty of the move.

The session concluded with stretches that involved hinging at the hip to bend down, with the leg(s) in a figure-4 position. Overall, I left with a very sore core. Upper, middle, and lower abs had been stimulated throughout the entire routine.
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Dinner plans lay the at southeasterly side of the GTA, thus I picked up Starbucks for the journey over.

I had proposed Hanyang Jokbal to a lover of stars and pigs. The Scarborough outpost had been selected purely on the basis of logistics and geographic location, though the original location resided closer to Sum than Silver Star Blvd. Once a spot in the chaotic asphalt had been secured, we marched over.

At the early hour of 6 PM, the restaurant was entirely empty. I suggested dining on the patio, which was, in reality, no more than a few wooden tables positioned on a concrete slab with a covering overhead. Ruthless rain-lined gusts would penetrate the patio area on a regular basis, along with visitors of the plaza. Some were masked and some unmasked, either passing by with takeout in hand or roaming about sneaking brief glances at the plates before us. The next most frequent sighting were flies - peculiarly large ones that would perch onto our belongings without warning.

Upon completing the contact tracing form, we were handed a duo of laminated menus. They were sticky, obnoxiously so for an establishment with minimal operating history. Similar qualms could be raised towards their bathroom and serving containers. While the individual stalls were quite roomy, droplets of unknown material were witnessed on the toilet seat. It was of little significance, but nonetheless a detail worth noting. Housed within one of the countless cupboards was an adequate inventory of paper towels and toilet paper. Above the sink was a interesting lever that would replace the standard faucet.

In the absence of mixed jokbal platters, we had taken to an order of A9. Half Braised Pork Hocks and Half Braised Pork Meat. Both of us had exchanged initial skeptism towards the bossam, for the restaurant had claimed themselves a specialist in jokbal.
Our suspicions were later substantiated by tough, bland strips of lean blanched pork. The difference between suyuk and bossam cuts was a valuable lesson in my culinary academic record. And, with those experiences in mind, it was easy to distinguish Hanyang's as worthy of neither title. Minimal marbling was observed, if any at all.

Regardless, we each took to a few pieces, wrapping them in romaine lettuce and topping with our sauces of choice. Neither the sewoojeot, doenjang, nor garlic slices were sampled, though I piled on kimchi in the early stages of the meal. The fermented cabbage slices grew progressively spicier over time, halting intent to eat altogether.

The jokbal, in stark contrast to the bossam, was spectacular. Gelatinous and well-seasoned, I took to many chopstick-fuls before decelerating in consumption pace.

Complimentary bean sprout soup had been provided to start. A mere spoonful of it was sufficient in sending embers down my throat. Gochukaru was spotted at its depths, and later the dust of my eco bag whose handle had been submerged by Mother Nature's forces (ie. the wind).

DIY Seasoned Rice Balls were the last to arrive. Contrary to the individual portions I had expected, a wide, shallow dish appeared before us with one single disposable glove in accompaniment. Tobiko, thinly-sliced scallions, and an atrocious portion of mayonnaise rested on top. To my utter shock, customers were to mix the ingredients themselves. The task was painstaking enough with only one glove, and further earned a grimace for the handling (compression!) of warm rice between one's fingers.
The bottom of the dish had been brushed generously with sesame oil, offering the warm grains a glossy finish. Ample tobiko and crunchy seaweed were wonderful contributors of texture, though the amount of oil and mayo was overbearing. An abundance of leftovers provided enough for the next two days.

Water was provided in Stainless steel pitcher, with glasses provided so customers could pour to their heart's content. Service was essentially nonexistent for majority of the meal, with the waitresses appearing no more than a handful of times to check in on their only patio table and follow up with napkins, sharing bowls, and additional utensils.

The experience was less than exemplary in my books, though I'm reluctant to write off the Yonge Street location for fear of ignorance. On a final note, I'd like to declare the availability of Walmae ​makgeolli irrelevant, as restaurant's liquor license is pending.

Our early supper paved the way for a Pacific Mall visit before closing time. Since my last visit, the grade separation along Steeles has made extravagant process. Catching a closer look at the TC-54s, the reason revealed itself to be none other than the work of Ellis-Don, the powerhouse of the GC scene.

Asphalt boulevards and fresh concrete curbs adorned the south side of the road. The format appeared too narrow to form a MUP, and was oddly close to the road. That said, line paintings had yet to be completed, leading to an empty conclusion.

"I can't believe you're actually site-seeing." comes the comment from my passenger seat.

The south entrance of Pacific Mall was a potentially separate contract with Fermar doing concrete forming (median) and other paving works. Frankly, the surrounding areas would also benefit from resurfacing, as severe ponding was witnessed at the Steeles and Silver Star intersection.

We arrived at the parking garage at 7:30 PM. Given the recent fire, the escalators and elevators remained out of service. Members of security directed us to alternate routes to gain entry to the ground floor: stairs connected the parking and ground floor, while a freight elevator and delivery paths enabled access to the second floor.

With fifteen minutes till closing, I darted for the arcade, succeeding in scoring precisely 101 points before closing. The original DDR was confirmed to be far more challenging than Pump It Up!.

For dessert, my partner-in-crime proposed Blossoming Juice at Midland and McNicoll. The sky-high prices had initially deterred me from a purchase, however a promo code soon resolved that.

The lover of stars and pigs opted for Son Eau Parfum, a medley of dragonfruit and yogurt with coconut shavings, to compare with her experience with the franchise's Taiwan location. My request of Jungle Smell After Rain was an intriguing mix of butter pea tea and non-alcoholic curacao. First impressions of the drink were of excessive sweetness tinged with a slight zestiness. Sugar content grew less noticeable as the ice dissolved.

The juice bar boasted seating in three wooden booths, only one of which featured benches on both ends. The girls behind the counter took notice of our - or rather my - awkward squatting position and shifted their belongings to enable seating. Amicable service continued into our stay, with access to the Wi-Fi network provided without a shred of hesitation.

We embarked on a multitude of tales, filling in the voids of COVID- (and distance-) imposed social inactivity. The skies dimmed without our realization, and a downpour commenced.

Making haste, I paid a visit to one of the two bathroom stalls while my partner-in-crime fumbled with her newly acquired handbag. We then dashed into the rain, taking care to avoid moving vehicles and slippery patches. The thunderstorm was on its way.