Pursuit of Happiness

Today, being Independence Day, I offer this list of things we can declare our independence from:

• Cultural pressure about looks.  Happy, healthy people are attractive, no matter what size or shape they happen to have.  Tell the fitness/beauty industrial complex that we don’t need their negativity.

• Processed food.  This may require something akin to a war because that processed food stuff is sneaky.  It infiltrates our guts and addicts us.  But fresh, whole foods make us feel so much better once we get through the process of weaning ourselves off the sugar/fat/chemical stuff.

• Stress.  All right, maybe that’s not entirely possible.  But we need to at least send a beautifully written manifesto to the stress king to let him know we are not going to keep serving him with no good return on our investment.  We’re allowed to take time to run and play and swim and read and sleep and breathe and love.

• Excess.  We can let go of some of the stuff holding us down.  Maybe that’s those guilt-filled boxes in the basement or that extra five pounds of cheat-day weight.  Let’s lighten up a bit!

Go play!  It’s a holiday!

Safe, not easy

My studio is intended to be a safe space. 

Of course, I mean it is a physically safe space.  I will make every effort not to drop heavy objects on anyone who comes in.  A large part of my job is choosing exercises that are appropriate for the bodies in front of me and watching those same bodies to ensure that they’re moving with correct form to prevent injury.  This is common sense.

It also should be common sense that studios and gyms should be safe spaces for our whole selves.  I do not hold with the insult-laden yelling sort of training associated with evil drill sergeants and orc captains.  Among other things, that kind of shaming can lead to exercise anxiety and total avoidance of anything physical.

My studio has some mirrors and we sometimes use them.  Other times we don’t.  Some people are more comfortable working without thinking about what they look like every five seconds.  When we need mirror feedback to build our sense of where our bodies are in space, we look, but I tend to focus on what good form feels like.

Language matters.  Sometimes I blow it, but I try not to describe anything my clients are doing as wrong—I speak instead about how we can make what they are doing better, safer, more effective.  When we learn new exercises, there is no rush to nail the movement.  We can take our time to figure it out in our bodies, deciding whether we need a better description, another demonstration, a tactile cue, or just more practice.

This is not to say that I will go easy on anyone.  When I approach my work and my clients with love, I have no choice but to encourage my clients to be their best and to do their best.  And I will be right there, next to them, working it through with them.

When ticking is not the thing to do

Most of the time, I’m a planner.  I love lists and schedules.  Nothing warms my heart quite like ticking a box.  That comes in handy sometimes when it’s a question of taking care of fitness.

Other times, things don’t go according to plan.  When the schedule goes out the window due to unforeseen winds of change, what do I and the other planners like me do?  For that matter, how do those of us who prefer not to plan manage our fitness?

There are, of course, many ways to address these questions.  One technique is mindfulness.  I’m not talking about the let’s-all-breathe-in-world-peace mindfulness (not that I object to that, unless it’s being used by an exploitative system to keep the people from agitating for real change), but a more homely, basic kind.  It’s a pause to consider such things as “Is the discomfort I am feeling lifting this weight the kind that is building muscle or the kind that means I’ve reached my limit?”  or “This ice cream tastes fabulous, but do I really need to eat the entire pint?” or “I’ve been sitting at my desk for a few hours now.  How is that making my hips/back/neck feel and what can I do about it?”

Learning to pause can be difficult.  We, culturally, have internalized a sense that we should be doing things All The Time.  Please note:  we are not valuable because we are productive—we are just valuable.  Also note (for those of us who have trouble with that first note) that the kind of pause I’m talking about takes a negligible amount of time, so even the sternest advocate of the Protestant Work Ethic will not detect any lapse.

We are seeking what makes us better and stronger and more powerful, not because there is any lack in ourselves but because we are precious beings.  We can do this.