But Pilates seemed to be almost exclusively about that midsection-er, core. What about my outlying regions? Amid all this monkeying and towering and seal-like flipper clapping, shouldn’t I do some exercises that just tested and developed my arms and legs? Like squat thrusts or bench presses?

I found Ari, and added a weekly session with him to my weekly session with Cathy. He worked out of a Spartan two-room exercise studio downtown. While Cathy was a font of the chirp and chatter on which dental hygienists once maintained a monopoly, Ari was a wellspring of the imperturbable calm associated with Buddhist monks. When I cursed him the way I had cursed Aaron, he didn’t shout back at me. He just shook his head slowly, radiating regret over the negativity that coursed through me, over how it separated me from the nirvana I might otherwise know.

He talked incessantly about the value of a good deep breath and told me to feel things in the back of my eyes. Sometimes he made me do exercises while keeping a mouthful of water that I was forbidden to swallow. It was a way to prevent me from panting-from wasting all of that precious breath.

But I was there for more than a respiration tutorial, and Ari obliged.

He made me pretend that I was Spider-Man and that the wood floor was the side of a skyscraper. I had to make my way across it on all fours, moving sideways and fleetly, my knees never dropping, my arms and thighs tensed, my butt held high. This supposedly tackled some half dozen major muscle groups at once.

He made me pretend that I was a frog, crouched but not too crouched, leaping in a forward direction for the length of two rooms. This supposedly worked wonders on my “glutes.” I wasn’t entirely sure what or where my glutes were, but I trusted that mine could use significant improvement.

For Ari I jumped rope, about two hundred time per session. At first I could only accomplish this in 50 –jump segments, but I eventually worked my way up to 125 jumps in a row on a good day. I’d be winded at the end, and sometimes even dizzy. I relished dizzy. Dizzy, I figured, was worth three to four more ounces more of lamb shank that I really had to eat. Dizzy was my get-out-of-love-handles-free card.

For Ari I also did push ups: on a big soft ball; on a small hard ball; with each hand wrapped around one of two handles places three feet apart; with my feet elevated on a short stepping stool; with my feet elevated on a taller stool.

Sometimes I even smiled when I did them, or laughed.

“That’s not the usual reaction,” Ari said to me once.

I guessed not. But was the usual person as stunned as I was that I could get through twenty push-ups and be ready for another twenty just a minute and a half later? That I had made it to this point?

A whole wall of one of the rooms in which Ari and I did our workouts was mirrored. I couldn’t avoid myself. But that was okay, because I didn’t really recognize myself, either. The man staring back at me wore a light gray tank top, which left his shoulders and upper arms exposed, and it didn’t look ridiculous or pointless on him, because his triceps and biceps had some minor definition. The tank top was perhaps clingier than wisdom would dictate. It had nothing to hide the way his midsection quivered when he jumped rope. But his cheeks and his chin- they didn’t quiver, not even when he whipped the rope around and pushed off the floor as fast as he could.

I put Ari in charge of the Men’s Vogue shoot. I knew a few of the top editors at the now-defunct magazine, and top my amusement they had asked me to write about staying fit while eating for a living. They had also asked if, to illustrate the article, they could photograph me while I exercised. They promised to obscure my face or crop it out of the picture, so that I wasn’t giving chefs and restaurateurs an easily accessed up-to-date picture of me.

Ari and I prepped for the shoot, devoting a half hour of one of our weekly sessions to figuring out which of the many exercises we routinely did would give me as streamlined a silhouette and as seemingly winnowed a waistline as possible.

“What about the one where I put my feet on the ball, my hands on the bench, and make a bridge of my body?” I asked Ari.

“If you can finally get your body into a straight line, that’d be good,” he said.

Dear Friends,

On Sunday, September the 5th, I will be participating in a Stand Up Paddle (SUP) for charity event sponsored by Paddler’s for Humanity http://www.p4h.org/. All proceeds raised for the 18-Mile open ocean paddle from Montauk to Block Island will benefit the Acumen Fund, the East Hampton Day Care Learning Center, the Montauk Playhouse Community Center, and PRASAD’s Children’s Dental Health Program.

I’ve procrastinated on committing to this event and am requesting your expedited support. I waited because I needed to be sure that my body would hold up after the busy summer season and that my recovery from Lyme Disease would continue.

Two years ago upon moving to the Hamptons I made an internal promise with myself to establish a deeper connection and appreciation of the ocean. The ocean speaks to my soul. It brings up feelings of awe, fear and will. It’s my belief that without being able to be in the ocean, my recovery from Lyme would be taking much, much longer.

Please help me give to those in need and give back to the ocean by supporting my paddling with a donation at http://www.p4h.org/index.php?idp=8 . I need to raise $1500 just to participate in this event, but I’m personally hoping to raise $2600. No donation is too small! Once logged in, click on Montauk to Block Island 18 Mile Open Ocean Paddle 2010, while making your donation please credit it to my team, Ari Weller (M to B).

Thank you for your support,
Ari

I love my work because I get do it with people who are serious about training and achieving physical goals and a high levels of human performance.

Outdoor activities levels peak during the short Northeast summers as many clients are willing to work through physical challenges and many cases chronic injuries because they want to make the best out of their time and themselves. I lobby some to spend more ‘ten toes up time’ but truth be known, I understand because I too am addicted to physical achievement and play. Tennis, golf, surfing, running, hiking, and cycling. The desire to ‘fit’ it all in is powerful and fulfills our primal desire to run, jump and move.

All this summer madness forces me to up my game as a coach, trainer and therapist. How can I keep ____ client going? What is needed here to help them stay fulfilled and pain free? Its not about cookie cutter sessions or group fitness classes, its about intimately understanding each persons body and activities they prefer to engage in, and creating protocols that help achieve goals in two ways:

1. To train with specific micro strength and conditioning exercises that balance, stabilize and help maintain movement ability.
2. To provide healing bodywork that helps with recovery and alleviates pain.

So I welcome you August! Bring on your heat and humidity, AND please bring more than a few nice offshore windy days with 4-6 foot swells~ ~ ~

The Hamptons has been particularly beautiful to start this summer and my training schedule is almost totally filled up. There have been small waves in the surf which has made it the perfect place to practice wave riding on a SUP.

Happy Fourth USA!!!

Saturday, June 5th from 9:30-11:00 at B East Fitness Studio. (631) 267-0900, 199 Main Street Amagansett (behind Mary’s Marvelous). www.Eastfit.com