This is me after my second HIIT workout on the cross trainer.
The weather is finally warming up, the sun’s out (bye grey sky!) and my body’s natural inclination during spring is
movement.
Dancing, cycling, swimming, weights. Plus this year’s additional self-defense.
I’d love to add horseback riding, too.
But no more running for me because of a permanent ganglion on my toe which hurts.
Winter is a time for yoga and the occasional dancing. My body needs rest. Sleep. Warm food. Eating more for the period of micro-hibernation we go through.
And my body is soft. I’m not muscular. My thighs and belly and arms are round.
I’m not “concerned”. I’m not pushing myself to look a certain way my mind deems correct. My body wants and needs movement, regardless of “weight goals”.
The number on a scale isn’t important.
When my body needs to rest, I don’t punish it by saying, “Just 5 more minutes! Keep going!”
I used to because of how I learnt to relate to exercise: the masculine way.
And I hurt my body that way.
So I started to respect her “No” and my relationship to exercise changed.
I hated physical exercise during my school years.
PE was a nightmare. I had to override my body's needs constantly to please others, to not be bullied even more, to get okay grades. I was the last to be selected into a team. I was called unathletic. My body is bad at this and that and also everything else.
My absent father is obsessed with sports, especially cycling. The few times we talked, he made clear that not being athletic and fit was one of the worst things to be.
As an adult, I can look back and acknowledge the imprints these early childhood and teenage experiences left. How easily I accepted the label of being an unfit nerd who excells at every school subject, but sports.
That label was a lie.
No one knew I had magnesium defeciency. After my school years, I started taking magnesium for my constipation issues and my whole body upgraded.
I could run without abdominal and thoracic cramps. My muscles didn't ache. I wasn't out of breath after five minutes.
I didn't hate movement anymore.
And that's when it clicked.
I wasn't not unatheltic. I was malnourished. It was biologically impossible for my body to perform.
My exploration into a whole new world began.
I did pilates for two years. I swam at our local pool as often as my wallet could handle. I took cycling trios alone to the forests and fields of the countryside. Tried some belly dancing. Did nordic walking in -11 Celsius degrees. Lifted weights. Ran three days a week.
Until I permanently damaged my toe.
And I realized I still wasn't honoring my body.
I was pushing and people pleasing, and it cost me.
Then my journey into my trauma began and changed my relationship to exercise for good.
No more reps. No more going beyond my body's capabilities. No more shame.
Because I'd learned to override my body's warning signals for so long, I couldn't hear them anymore.
I'm still working on this.
Like today, I got a blister on my foot. I felt some discomfort on the cross trainer and brushed it off. My mind convinced me that it's impossible to get a blister with the feet barely moving in their pedals.
The mind will say anything to keep your patterns alive.
In my case, the pattern of ignoring my body's "Stop" and pushing through.
This is still something I'm working on.
And that's what the feminine way of movement is all about.
You feel every sensation. You don't numb out or use your mind to continue doing something your body is done with.
You move when your body has the first impulse to move, in whatever way it wants.
There's no stopwatch or list or any other method for reaching a predetermined goal.
Your body is in charge.
If you're mid-run and your body wants to rest, you rest. If it wants to walk, you walk. If you've walked for a while and it wants to run again, you run.
For me, the easiest way to start moving this way was Intuitive Dance. It's exactly what it says on the cover. You'll move your body how it wants to move. This can feel awkward at first, so putting on music can help you get out of your mind.
You can't do this wrong.
There are no forbidden movements. Or weird movements. Or inappropriate movements.
There's permission for everything here. You can stand or sit or jump, and transition between those.
A regular embodiment practice like this unchains you. I could tell you the wisest words and they wouldn't come close to the experience of your body being shamelessly alive.
If you've been stuck for a while, try moving your body for the sake of movement.
Movement heals you.
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