Yes, that's right folks, I was once a bonafide all-city tennis champion. 1996 was also the last time in my life that I had any form of regular movement in it.
Here's how I feel about exercise: I truly hate it. I associate it with pain and punishment and lack of agency. I'm not athletic, nor do I care to be. I hated conditioning in junior high sports. I can't see why making myself suffer through regimented sequences of difficult exercises should be prioritized. The thought of going to a gym or having a trainer telling me what I have to do makes me feel angry and stubborn. So suffice it to say: I've never been an exerciser, a runner, or much of a sports player.
But, I do like hiking and riding my bike and walking through the city for hours. I like things that get me outside and don't involve complicated machinery or the right equipment or a decoder-ring to understand work-out-speak. I like things that are fun and take me places and let me explore the world. So I don't mind movement, I just need it to make sense and have a softness about it and to integrate my heart and spirit. Exercise always felt rough and hard and like the anthesis of softness and spirituality.
In my early 20s, I started having lower back pain, which I finally figured out (10 years later) was actually due to a chronic hip problem. For years I've had chronic pain in my hip, which radiates up into my lower back and down my left leg. I also routinely have persistent pain in my neck and shoulders.
By the end of my 20s I noticed that I'd lost not only strength and flexibility but (most frighteningly) I'd lost trust in my body to do what I asked of it. I wouldn't try things (like jumping, climbing, hanging, etc.) that as a kid I wouldn't have even thought twice about. This made me afraid for my future. I don't want to be a brittle, stiff, frail older woman like my great grandmother was. I don't want the pain and disease that my mother and grandmother struggle with. I want my body to be able to do more for me when I'm 40-50-60-70-80 than I've seen my family members be able to do.
Because of the loss of trust in my body combined with chronic pain I've coped by decreasing my movement, trying not to exacerbate pain or suffer any additional harm. Thirty-four is way too young to be feeling this way, if you ask me. Fortuitously, I learned about "natural movement" on Instagram, and after quietly observing some amazing leaders in the community for a while, I became curious enough to give it a try. I saw it as potentially the biggest hope I could have towards achieving my goal of aging more ably than previous generations in my family, and signed up for a one-day Movnat workshop.
I brought all of these complex feelings and experiences with me to the workshop yesterday and was unsure what to expect. It was my first time in a private gym and I admit I was fearful that I wouldn't be up to the challenge. But our instructor was amazing. There were no rules, no 'have-to's', no yelling, no shame, no wrong bodies, and no one single right-way to do anything. I wasn't a body full of liabilities to overcome. I wasn't broken or in need of modifying before I could begin. I was just me, and I was accepted. ME was everything I needed to be there to learn. That was it.
It was hard work (it's hard work to exercise for 6 hours when your last championship performance was in 1996) but it was so rewarding and lots of fun. I never once felt even a tiny bit angry or stubborn and felt like I was in complete control over my experience at all times. I never felt pressured to do anything that I was afraid of or incapable of and was always able to decide how I felt I could best participate without feeling ashamed or weak. It was okay to sit out when I needed to rest or stretch and I also overcame some major mental fears and grew in confidence thanks to gentle and positive encouragement.
Throughout the day, I learned practical and playful movement that I can use to strengthen my body and increase flexibility. I learned things like how to lift and carry properly, how to jump up and down off of things, how to get up and down off of the floor, all sorts of things that will serve me well and keep me safe from injury for the rest of my life! But even more wonderfully, I learned that my physical body is trustworthy and capable of way more than I realized or give it credit for. I learned that I can integrate play, creativity, and attentiveness, appreciation, and compassion for nature into my movement practice.
Today of course my body hurts all over (ALL OVER) from so much movement that it's not used to. But I've decided I'd way rather be in pain like this because I DID something than in my usual pain because I didn't. This pain at least has purpose and hope and faith behind it.
I'm sharing this here now for a couple of reasons. Firstly, because I am helluh proud of myself. I reclaimed so much faith and confidence in myself yesterday. I also made a big move in declaring that I will put in the work to age differently than my foremothers. I am now stronger in both my confidence and my resolve.
I also wanted to share this with any of you who, like me, felt like exercise isn't for you because it's insufferable, angering, and awful. Don't give up. Maybe you just haven't found the right thing yet. Maybe you need movement that is integrated into your spiritual love of nature and gets you outdoors or that feels spritely and creative and fun. I get it! Me too! I hope this gives you hope and agency for crafting your own aging process so that it can be one of health and vibrancy and supple movement. I'm going to be working on it too, so definitely hit me up if you want to talk more about natural movement (or if you want to go out adventuring and wiggling and playing with me too!)