I wasn’t born with the exercise gene. Well, maybe I had it initially, but then puberty roared in and messed everything up.
I remember being a child who loved to run, swim and bike. But then, I hit a growth spurt, or rather, the growth spurt hit me. Somehow, the summer between the 5th and 6th grade, I went from being a tallish kid to a nearly 5’9” preteen who grew so fast it hurt. I got boobs, and my arms and legs were so long in proportion to the rest of my body that I resembled a chimpanzee with a Dorothy Hamill haircut.
It was rough.
Not only did I look weird, but that swift change in my body rendered me (to this day) completely uncoordinated. Instead of running around playing, I just wanted to fold my achy limbs up and read Little House on the Prairie books in peace. My mother, however, had other plans for her summer and kicked me out of the house daily to play with my friends. I would hide in the garage and read until she let me back in.
Years later, I tried to regain my love of movement and took a snowboarding class at my then-boyfriend’s request. It was an “adult” class, which meant 20-something-year-old me and about ten 12-year-old boys. After I had fallen about 25 times in the first half of a three-hour class (my boyfriend had abandoned me to hit the slopes). I slunk away, sweaty, disheveled and red-faced to drink hot toddies in the bar, marveling at the women who still looked normal after several runs in the cold.
Still, being a part time dog walker, I managed to stay a manageable size until the universe threw me another curve ball and said, “You’re in your forties now, good luck!” I had no luck at all, unfortunately, and my size eight body swelled to its new normal, WAY beyond what I was used to.
Again, I tried to find an activity that would keep me (and my newly creaky knees) fit in my dotage. I joined a gym, hiked, and mountain biked, but I didn’t enjoy any of it and couldn’t sustain the habit. Wanting something new, on a whim, I decided to try Main Street Pilates in North Bend.
Oddly enough, what made me decide to give it a try was a TikTok video of a young woman who declared that people over 200 pounds should not be allowed in a Pilates class. The response videos showed women of all sizes who found success in the exercise when nothing else seemed to work. Not wanting to slow a class down or face a repeat of my ill-fated snowboarding class, I started with three private lessons earlier this year.
Before my first class, I had already done some research into Joseph Pilates, who is credited with inventing and promoting this method of exercise. A German physical trainer, he came up with this method that improves physical strength, flexibility, and posture, with a strong emphasis on controlled movement, core strength, and breath.
While interned in England during World War I as a German national, he worked with injured soldiers. He adapted his exercises for bedridden patients using makeshift equipment (like bed springs and pulleys), which eventually led to the development of the Pilates Reformer. I headed off to my first private lesson, hoping I could do almost as well as a bedridden, injured soldier, but not entirely confident in that hope.
Main Street Pilates has studios in Bellevue and North Bend, with the latter opening in 2023 at the Sunset Garage location. Kerri Roberts, the owner, dreamed of opening a studio in North Bend as far back as 2019 after moving to the area. “After some encouraging nudges from friends and clients,” she said, “I decided to test the waters with a 12-week Reformer series inside Twin Peaks Wellness.” Classes filled quickly, and when the right space became available, she signed the lease and officially opened the North Bend location with help from family and friends.
It’s interesting how my garage moment has come full circle, eh? The studio is filled with light, calm, and welcoming. I arrived for my first private lesson not knowing what to expect, nervous about trying something new and skeptical that I would enjoy what kind of looked like a medieval torture device. According to Kerri, “The Reformer is one piece of the full Pilates system. It’s a spring-based machine designed to improve core strength, flexibility, spinal mobility, balance, and body awareness.” She explains that Pilates is progressive and functional, meant to evolve with you, not defeat you on day one.
My instructor, Taylor*, who was warm, encouraging, and extremely patient, had me take off my shoes and started me off lying down on the Reformer’s moving carriage with light spring resistance. She led me through a series of slow, controlled movements that focused on my breath, alignment, and core stability—things like leg presses, gentle abdominal work, and arm exercises using straps. It didn’t feel like a sweaty workout class, but I quickly discovered muscles I forgot I had.
There’s a lot of focus on form over speed. I likely shook a little during some movements, which is apparently totally normal. I also felt slightly ridiculous trying to coordinate my limbs and breathing, but who cares? I assume everyone has looked awkward on the Reformer at some point. That kind of adaptability is by design. “Through thoughtful progressions, modifications, and the use of props or equipment, we can customize sessions for almost anyone,” Kerri said. “We always aim to meet people where they are, and then help them build strength, mobility, and a deeper mind-body connection over time.”
I heard foreign terms such as “neutral spine,” “engage your core,” and “tabletop legs.” Everything was explained along the way, and Taylor’s corrections were gentle and helpful, not judgmental. That approach seems intentional. “Everyone is carrying something,” Kerri told me, “whether it’s stress, grief, or just the demands of everyday life. My goal is to create a space where people can leave that at the door, even just for an hour, and find peace, strength, and community.”
The session wrapped up with some stretching and a check-in on how I was feeling. I walked out feeling a little taller and looser and surprised at how much I had worked without sweating too much, jumping around, or lifting heavy things.
Since that day, I’ve completed six private lessons (I’m a slow learner) and 3 or 4 beginning group sessions. I’m currently trying to determine the best time of day for me and considering signing up for a package deal. And for all you Pilates regulars, I’ll be trying a Reformer Flow class soon and hope not to slow you all down too much, sending you to TikTok to complain about that chonky redhead in class.
If you, like me, have a complicated relationship with movement, aging joints, or the haunting memory of a failed snowboarding class, Main Street Pilates might be the gentle nudge you didn’t know you needed.
There’s no blaring music, no barking instructors, and no pressure to suddenly become the graceful swan you never were. Just quiet encouragement, controlled movement, and the kind of calm studio atmosphere that makes you forget you’re exercising at all—until you try to sit down the next day and realize something actually happened.
This is the first place in a while I’ve felt like I could move my body without resenting it, and that’s saying something.
So here I am, a few lessons in, still flailing occasionally but no longer fearing the Reformer or mistaking it for a coat rack. I haven’t transformed into a graceful Pilates goddess, and I still inwardly groan every time I hear “tabletop legs,” but I keep showing up—and that counts for something, right? At the very least, I now willingly enter a garage without trying to hide behind a stack of paint cans, which feels like progress.
*Thank you to Marian, Lisa, Kerri, Robin and Alexa too!
