I hate gym teachers. I think they’re evil. And that goes all the way back to Miss Peterson and the President’s Physical Fitness Program. President Kennedy’s Physical Fitness Program.
Miss Peterson, with her beady eyes and Bermuda shorts. Her ridiculously athletic build. And President Kennedy … his own physical difficulties a well-kept secret, that guy was on a mission to shape up his fellow-Americans, especially the young ones. The children are so much easier to push around.
Thanks to President Kennedy’s fitness initiative, there we were on the shiny, maple floor of the Rugen School gym, doing sit-ups and push-ups and the fifty-yard dash. Or in my case, the fifty-yard dawdle. My performance was pitiful.
The worst part of all? That big, fat, hairy rope dangling from the ceiling of the gym. Climb a rope? Me? Sure thing. No matter how much I struggled, I just could not get my feet off the floor.
Miss Peterson mocked me. Clearly, I was not going to be a candidate for that Presidential Physical Fitness badge with the eagle on it. (And she was not going to be a candidate for Teacher of the Year, but that’s another story.)
Well that was a long time ago, but some things don’t change that much. My humiliating failure to shimmy up the damn rope set the tone for lifelong sloth and a deep loathing of exercise. Which lasted for years. Decades, in fact.
And then, way too late, well into middle age (if you stretch the definition of middle) I discovered yoga: the first physical activity I ever really liked. I didn’t like it because I was particularly proficient – I was no more adept at asanas than I was at the President’s Physical Fitness Program. Which is not all that surprising: Boat Pose looks suspiciously like a sit-up, and what is Plank but a stationary push-up?
But there is something different about yoga. It’s communal, not competitive. We practice in a group, and you can feel the energy generated by the others. But each of us is on our own mat, engaging fully in our own practice.
If I can’t do a perfect Pigeon, it’s nobody’s business but mine. It’s not like dropping the ball and ruining the game for the entire team … and then continuing to hear how badly I blew it long after recess is over.
And of course, there’s the inner work. It’s a huge component of yoga practice, even more important than the outward performance of the poses, or asanas. Imagine a physical activity that’s really, on another level, a spiritual activity. Now that’s my kind of exercise.
And what’s not to like about an activity that ends with an official rest period? Sivasana, “Corpse Pose” involves lying on your back on the mat, eyes closed, allowing the whole body (and if you’re lucky the mind too) to let go. After the effort of the asanas, which can be quite intense, the letting go is delicious.
So I started out clumsily, watching my fellow-yogis with awe at their flexibility and strength and grace. Gradually, I grew more flexible too. And stronger. And even (almost) graceful.
It was incremental improvement: bending just a little further, stretching a little longer, deepening each pose a fraction of an inch at a time. And it was very satisfying.
I ran into a roadblock though, when it came to the headstand.
I concluded after many failed attempts that I was too old to do a headstand, or too fat. I didn’t have enough upper body strength. I didn’t have enough core strength. I just wasn’t cut out to do a headstand.
I admired the students who could turn upside down, seemingly without much effort. And I tried – hard – to imitate them. On hands and knees on the mat … then hands clasped on the floor, the forearms making two sides of an equilateral triangle … head goes down, resting in that little nest formed by the hands … feet walk up … back straightens … and legs lift up into the air.
Unless they’re my legs. Time after time, I’d get as far as the set-up. Arms and hands in position, crown of the head on the floor. And then it all fell apart. No matter how much I struggled, I just could not get my feet off the floor.
It wasn’t for lack of effort, no matter what Bob said. Bob was an Iyengar teacher, and he was mean. He actually yelled at me, “You have to try. You have to try.” He was just like Miss Peterson, except his shorts were shorter. Well, and then there were the tattoos.
My experiment with Iyengar-style yoga didn’t last long.
****
The story doesn’t end here. Even when you think you’re a complete failure, you can always regroup and give it another go, right?
The rest of the story, next week. But first, thanks to Melissa Heisler for inspiring me. Maybe you read my article a few weeks ago about where you find inspiration?
I found mine reading Melissa’s story about her headstand practice. Which reminded me: “Hey, I wrote something like that! But it’s too long…”
Well, word count is the mother of invention. You’ll find the rest of the story in your inbox next week.
In the meantime, I invite you to share your comments and experiences below.
This is all of us. It’s so common to think you’re the only one with the struggle.
And that little creep voice that tells you “not enough”….slay it all day long.
I love the idea of being a mind warrior.
“Mind warrior” – I like that too, Leigh. Thanks!
This is all of us. It’s so common to think you’re the only one with the struggle.
And that little creep voice that tells you “not enough”….slay it all day long.
I love the idea of being a mind warrior.
I am honored to have inspired you Catherine. The headstand – like all of yoga – is amazingly more mental than physical (although I have a hard time believing that some days too). Keep at it. I have not conquered my headstand yet, but I know I will. Hoping you found the right yoga instructor to help you break out of your comfort zone and accomplish more than you imagine! I look forward to the second half of your story.
You’ll love the second half, Melissa. Right instructor, right attitude – definitely out of the comfort zone. And you DID inspire me to take another look at my own story. Sometime when I can’t figure out what to write or what to say, I’ll be able to use this experience as an example of finding (and of course acting on) inspiration.
Growing up I was not athletic at all. I always felt like the line in that song “At Seventeen” was written about me: “And those whose names were never called when choosing sides for basketball.” I am fundamentally a walk-in-the-park girl, but found out as an adult that I could learn to swim and became pretty proficient at step aerobics when that was popular. Balance is not my thing either, never learned to ride a bike on my own. Don’t get me on a stability ball; after falling off and crashing into other students a few times, I banned myself from class before they kicked me out!
But then through a friend, I discovered Trapeze School New York-Chicago. The instructors are like our high school gym teachers SHOULD HAVE BEEN. They are kind and supportive and don’t mock you if you’re scared or if you don’t get a trick right. Everyone progresses at their own pace and they work with you and give you encouragement and suggestions on how you can do it better. It’s somewhat daunting because you’re not supposed to compare yourself to others but of course everyone does, but you learn to work through the frustration and keep trying. The exercise is great and it’s paid off in increased bone density, which at my age is a BIG deal, but it’s the wonderful people that keep me coming back. Finding that has made all the difference.
Barbara, I love the idea of instructors like our gym teachers SHOULD have been. Maybe P.E. teachers are different now? I remember most of them being brutal on those of us who weren’t athletically gifted.
Thanks for sharing your discovery. I’m not sure I’d have the nerve to try a trapeze. But I sure enjoy seeing pictures of you doing that on Facebook.
What a wonderful article, Catherine, and so beautifully written. I truly hope that things have changed in PE classes since we were little. I can’t wait to read your next installment.
Thanks, Nancy! I’m with you, hoping that gym classes are different these days–and less humiliating for the kids who don’t have much athletic talent. Maybe students who didn’t do well in spelling or science or arithmetic felt the same way in those classes that I felt in PE. But it seemed like the gym teachers were much quicker to elevate the athletically gifted and dismiss or deride the less coordinated.
Catherine, it all sounds so familiar. I hadn’t thought about those experiences in years. Like you, I hope the philosophy of the instructors has changed and that each student is valued for what they can do and not belittled for their challenges. When you have been told over and over that you are not good at something it certainly makes it difficult to pick yourself up and try again!
Yes. And what makes it most difficult is when I tell myself over and over that I’m not good at something. I try not to do that anymore, but it’s surprising how often those not-good-enough thoughts show up.
I regret not seeing this until I clicked on the link from this week’s story – I LOVE I! And it’s my story too. Some of my earliest and most vivid elementary school memories are of being the last one chosen for the softball team — every time. In high school I tried to get my mom to get her doctor to give me a note to get out of gym class but he said I should exercise more, not less! Imagine that. lol. As a grown-up, I eventually dabbled in a bit of aerobic dance but YOGA was what changed me forever. I was 40 by the time I started a serious practice and five years later began teaching but I know it is something I will do for the rest of my life and there is nothing better for us as we age! And you, Catherine, are an awesome yogi!
You’re so right, Linda, about yoga being great for us as we age. It’s also great for those of us who never thought of ourselves as athletic or coordinated or whatever.
I’m so glad you liked this post. And if you didn’t see the second half of my yoga story, you’ll find it here: https://catherinejohns.com/turning-the-world-upside-down/.
I regret not seeing this until I clicked on the link from this week’s story – I LOVE I! And it’s my story too. Some of my earliest and most vivid elementary school memories are of being the last one chosen for the softball team — every time. In high school I tried to get my mom to get her doctor to give me a note to get out of gym class but he said I should exercise more, not less! Imagine that. lol. As a grown-up, I eventually dabbled in a bit of aerobic dance but YOGA was what changed me forever. I was 40 by the time I started a serious practice and five years later began teaching but I know it is something I will do for the rest of my life and there is nothing better for us as we age! And you, Catherine, are an awesome yogi!