It Takes a Village

ID 6052480

© Sgame

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Happy Thursday, blog followers!

Warning: In this week's blog post, I'm being selfish.  I'm making a situation that has nothing to do with me, entirely about me.  But it's OK to do that if you admit it up front, right?

This past week, I received some terrible news. The instructor of my weekly Turbo Kick class, Meg, informed our class that she is moving away.  I’m sure she’s making all the right decisions for her family, but to me, this was crushing, devastating, drop me to my knees in tears while unnecessarily over-reacting, punch me in the gut, painful news. I didn’t see this coming. I’m not prepared.  Do I have enough time to get used to the idea of a new instructor coming in?  It took me SO LONG to psych myself up into attending her class in the first place! And it just can't be the same with another instructor.  Say it ain't so!

So, this week I'm writing about the village of people I've assembled to help me get my health in order as well as the positive impact of attending group exercise classes. This was a great reminder that you might be changing someone else's life without knowing it.  Sometimes I forget this when I'm working with my patients.  I have no clue how I've impacted people other than with their physical therapy, but I hope I've helped others the way Meg has helped me.

I joined the YMCA in August 2018 as part of my elaborate and carefully plotted plan to combat my eating disorder and body image issues, which I first discussed here.  I had been in severe denial about what was going on in my life, blissfully ignorant to reality, and had started seeing my therapist at the same time.  I decided to create a small village of people to help me with my journey: a therapist, a dietitian, someone to revamp my physical fitness - who ultimately became Meg - along with some family and close friends. I was entirely unmotivated to move my body - which I was currently hating - and I was sick of my training routine. I wasn't looking for group classes when I joined, hoping could manage my physical health myself, but considerd I might need another person in my village to oversee that, too.

I was initially opposed to group classes because I experienced a particularly uncomfortable CrossFit situation when the instructor told me that "a girl of my size should be lifting a lot more weight." To some extent he was correct - I could squat and deadlift a lot more than I was using there.  But at that time I hadn't been training much and knew the planned workouts included high repetitions and the volume was too much for me to load up the barbell as they recommended.  They pushed me to lift more, I pushed back saying I wasn't ready, and it was ultimately an embarrassing and painful situation.  It is specifically why I treat my own patients meeting them where they are - not where I want them to be.  So I had that experience, plus, I hate the idea of people seeing my body moving.

2008 CT Sun Yoga Class

Those reasons led to apprehension for group classes with the exception of yoga. In 2008 I went to a group yoga class with the Connecticut Sun and have been able to continue with yoga intermittently since then. I wrote about my recent return to yoga here, but, as I previously wrote, I only do hot yoga where I get high (or delirious) from oxygen deprivation that I basically can't tell anyone else is in the room.  Group exercise class?  For sure the others would notice that I'm fat, that I can't jump, that I will get tired, that I sweat a lot and breathe heavy, and that I'm not very coordinated.  Now, many months later, I'm here to tell you none of this occurred.  It was all in my head!

In October 2018, after walking by Meg's class on several preceding Mondays, I finally talked myself into trying her class.  I told myself that I knew the music was good and that I had to complete the class but that if I absolutely hated it, I would try one different class before swearing off group classes for the rest of eternity.  Dramatic much? Thankfully, Meg ran up to me that first day, super spunky and upbeat, introduced herself saying that her class was super fun and that it didn't matter if I knew any of the steps, just keep moving however I wanted to. I've been hooked ever since.

Here’s why Meg’s departure hit me like a ton of bricks.  I was in a deep dark hole of emotions and confusion when I started this journey and quickly learned that I needed to ask for a lot of help. I built my village including three smart, beautiful, strong women to help me pick myself up off the floor and put my pieces back together.  My therapist and dietitian knew each other, use similar approaches for treatment, and know all about my issues. I don’t think they intend to be sympathetic towards me, but sometimes they are, and sympathy isn't what I want or need.

But Meg is different.  She's not sympathetic towards me because she has no reason to be. She doesn't know why I'm in her class or what I'm dealing with. She barely knows anything about me, really, and that's just how I liked it. She's empowering and motivating because that's in her nature. And yes, it's her job, but there are other instructors in there with totally different vibes. I've walked by their classes a bit, too, wondering if I should add to my routine. Choosing her class was not a mistake. She welcomed me in, kick started most of my Mondays since October with high energy, a positive attitude, motivation, and joy. I purposefully attend her class right before going to see my therapist because turbo kick is basically a class where you can punch and kick your problems in the gut and my G-d I needed that.  It also lets out a lot of energy, which calms me and helps me organize my thoughts before saying them out loud.  When I started pairing turbo kick with therapy, I was really struggling to see my therapist because it was so vulnerable. Dance fighting with a room full of strangers is vulnerable, too, but way more fun than one on on conversations in a room with a couch and too many boxes of tissues.  I can’t actually tell which “treatment” has helped me more over the past six months, but I can tell you what this class did for me.

First- a group class has other people working towards their own goals- but the goals can be kept private as you work towards them together. I don’t know if people in the class are trying to lose weight, get stronger, let off some anger issues, or hear some current music. I don't know if they secretly wish to be a performer on a stage - but instead work as an accountant because they need to pay their bills. I don't know if they want to learn ways to protect themself if they were attacked, because truthfully, I would definitely use the moves I've learned there if someone came at me. I don’t actually care why they’re there. It doesn’t matter. We’re all going to do the same moves and at the end be disgustingly sweaty and high five each other with a sense of accomplishment towards our own goals.  I can go deadlift and have an awesome lift on my own, but there won't be anyone to high five me when I'm done. And because people start recognizing each other, it really does start to feel like community. Like if you missed a week, someone might ask if you were OK, or if you went on a nice vacation. Sometimes you just need that!

Second- all my concerns about other people watching me were entirely unfounded.  Nobody else is looking at what I'm doing in this class. They don't care. Once we get started, I barely even notice there are other people in the room, except to watch out for kicking my neighbor and to follow Meg instructing the moves.  Everyone is trying to get the steps right for themselves.  The rule is to keep moving even if you don't know the steps... but sometimes I know the steps and choose to do something different. For example, I CAN do burpees... but I hate them... so when there’s a burpee in the routine, I do jumping jacks or squats or whatever I want. Because for me, the whole point is to move. Not get better at burpees. Once I stopped exercising to lose weight and started doing it because it made me feel good, things in my life started to get a whole lot better. It’s still a struggle to make myself move regularly, so I attend a weekly dance party with some uppercuts and roundhouses thrown in and I actually feel like I’m prepared to conquer the week - whatever it may throw at me.

Third- and probably most important for my personal journey- the room is lined with a wall of mirrors. For the first several weeks, it disgusted me to see myself in the mirror. I was sure others could see how gross my body was. When I was diagnosed with my eating disorder, my testing suggested that I didn't have any body image issues. This was apparently very wrong. I've learned it was/is a huge problem. Prior to facing my issues, I didn't realize I was avoiding mirrors.  We have them at work, too, and I didn't even notice how much I put my back to them.  If I lifted at the gym, I didn’t want to see myself doing it. I don’t have a full length mirror at home and have never had one since I moved to Seattle.  I didn't actually realize how much I had been avoiding looking at myself until one class I caught myself in the mirror while doing a punching move and realized holy crap! That's me!  That's my body! It's doing all these things.  It's working hard and feeling pretty good. I’m actually able to tolerate looking in the mirror and smile at myself a little now.  That may not sound big... but for someone who went from not knowing what their body looked like at all and hating her own skin to tolerating her body and appreciating the things it’s capable of, I think it's huge. I’m sure somewhere down the road, there will be a time when I might like my body- and maybe even love it. That's not where I'm at right now, but I’m sure that the road started with the mirror in turbo kick.

And so, while I am sad to know my village is evolving, I’m eternally grateful for the role Meg played in it at the beginning.  Can't wait for the next Turbo Kick class.