Pilates: In, Trying New Things To Impress Men: Out

I met a man in Bali during a zouk class. He was forty-something (typical), loved by all, not American, and Theo-James-hot—I had to have him. At dinner one night, we made a deal: he’d join me the following week for Pilates, and in return, I’d endure a boxing class with him. It felt balanced enough.

Pilates came first. We went to The Collective Club, my favorite studio in Ubud. It was gentle yet humbling—perfect for easing him into my world. He made it through the hour without a hitch, and I assumed I’d do the same when it was my turn to step into the ring. How hard could boxing really be?

Famous last words.

The class was an hour, but it felt like eternity. Cardio central. First, there were jump ropes—fine. Manageable. Then we started sprinting around the ring, a group of Indonesian trainers yelling at us to move faster, laughing. I felt like a show animal being worked to exhaustion. I thought I might faint. I looked at my watch. It had been 5 minutes.

At some point, I entered a state of delirium. I tried to reframe the experience—maybe I was in Divergent, mid-Dauntless initiation, fighting for my place among the strong. But even in fantasy, I knew the truth: I wouldn’t have lasted a day. I made my peace with that fact. Mercifully, they saw my struggle. Rather than letting me collapse in disgrace, they assigned me a personal instructor—for “extra guidance,” they said. In other words, they were holding me to a lower standard. Thank god.

The instructor, bless him, couldn’t hide his concern. Every round (read: every minute), he suggested, with increasing urgency, that I take a break. Apparently, my attempts to fake competence were transparent. “Rest,” he kept saying. Sure thang.

Meanwhile, my friend was across the ring, glistening in a very sexy sweat, keeping up like it was nothing. I hated him for it.

I did what any sane person would do: left him to bask in his post-workout superiority and disappeared into the spa for the rest of the day. Six hours of hot tubs, cold plunges, and sheer denial.

We saw each other a few more times, but I realized something: some people bring out your strengths, and others expose your weaknesses. Ideally, you find someone who does a little of both--but if they’re just out here making you sprint in circles, maybe it’s best to let them run ahead.