Getting the sweaty wet.
For the past month or so I have resumed exercising. I try to do a little something everyday, whether sweating on the treadmill, taking a walk, kitchen ballet, dancing to Michael Jackson, cleaning, or doing little exercises on the ground that hurt my muscles. I have felt myself becoming stronger and leaner, more motivated, and more enthusiastic about the world. All of these things contribute to a better self esteem, which is very nice and healthy and practical.
I don’t believe that the mind and body are separate entities. The concept of the brain in the vat induces an almost depression in me when I think about it for too long. Life appears without meaning or consequence. When the body is being utilised, it creates a sense of purpose in the individual. The mind awakens and becomes active because the body is active. Blood circulates more rapidly and thoroughly. The body is awakened to purpose. I am currently struggling to find the words to communicate what I would like to, but I do experience quite vivid and well structured daydreams whilst I am exercising, and I believe all of this blood-pumping, as well as the sense of purpose I experience, contribute to this. Exercise as an activity unburdens me from my feelings of purposelessness, which in turn motivates me to be more active in other areas, which promotes confidence, which means a more rich and fulfilling life.
I suspect I am repeating myself a bit here.
Anyway, lately, I’ve found my exercising has got me to thinking back to my childhood and my ten years spent in the sport of gymnastics. I am not fond of my gymnastics experience, however, for a number of reasons. I was always a very sensitive and shy child, and I don’t think I was ever naturally prepared for the mental demands of the sport. I am not naturally inclined to be aggressive, powerful and reckless – attributes I believe are essential for succeeding in gymnastics. There was also one coach in particular who caused me a lot of mental anguish. She terrified me so deeply that, if I had training after school on a particular day, I would begin that day, and spend the entire day, praying obsessively that she would not be able to make it to training that night. I could hardly bring myself to say her name, as if giving her name my very breath would give her more life, more realness, that I would inevitably have to confront. I know this must all sound very melodramatic, but I was a kid, so fugg yew if you think I am a wuss!
Anyway, there were many, many other things I didn’t enjoy about my gymnastics experience, but there was definitely something I DID enjoy. It was one of those things that was painful while the experience was happening, but very confidence boosting and exhilarating once it was over. I adored climbing trees and practicing skills at home. I liked it that I was always fit and energetic. I loved the bars – the fluidity and rhythm of swinging was very pleasurable, almost meditative, because it was an element of gymnastics that didn’t require ‘performance’. (I loathed all of the showy, dancey stuff that made me aware I was being watched and scrutinized.)
Okay, now I’m being reminded of all of the stuff I hated and I want to bitch a lot about how I think I was treated badly when I was a child by some of these women (who were the same age then as I am now, which makes me even more appalled as I can put myself in their shoes)... but I won’t go into that! BUT, when I quit gymnastics at the age of 16, I felt so liberated that I threw sport, health, fitness away for a long time and exchanged it for self-destruction and boys and sloppishness. This is my true self! I thought.
Now, in hindsight, as I reflect on this sort of stuff whilst sweating on the treadmill and feeling good for it, I realise that all I was doing was rebelling from something I deemed undesirable. Just good ol’ youthful rebellion, which we all need to get out of our systems and with much gusto, I say. It’s kind of like how, when high school is all over, the kids who were never cool enough or pretty enough find their own solace and identity and affirmation through rebelling against the cool kids by living a vaguely glamorous, hedonistic, self-destructive lifestyle. (I’ve done it). It is taking the perception of the ‘cool jock kids’ and subverting it. Trying to regain some feeling of power, feelings of triumph or rebirth. But, essentially, there is not much differentiating these two attitudes – both require feelings of ‘I’m better THAN…’. The only difference is one attitude came first and the other came second. There was A: the ‘cool jock kids’, and then B: those who rebel against the perception of this identity. In the natural chain of time, the evolution of our identities – the passing through and of phases that we experience, for instance – the original ‘perpetrators’ – those ‘cool jock kids’, are possibly more likely to become well-rounded, humble individuals before those who have been busying themselves rebelling against them. In a way, as undesirable as this ‘cool jock kid’ stereotype is to many people, these individuals themselves are probably more honest characters in nature than those busy rebelling against them.
Am I making any sense? I’m just churning this out, really.
There is nothing wrong with being an active, physical being. Intelligence has nothing to do with sedentariness. Idleness breeds depression. Intelligence does not create depression. We are all susceptible to this condition – some just more predisposed than others.
What is my point again?
I think I am just beginning to realise how misguided I have been for so long, and how relieved and enthused I am by this.
Thanks for reading! I know I have more to say, but I’ll save that for next time.
xxxx
Also, thank-you very much to all of you who do things like ‘add to favourites’ my stories and stuff. It is very encouraging, and it makes me happy.
thepalms
Oh! I remember what else I have to say. It’s regarding my own experiences with rebelling against sportiness!
For some people, they had quite negative early experiences with sport or physical activity. It may be because they were pushed too hard, or they were criticised, or they were just not physically built to be as successful as some other people in the sport. They may have been abused, maybe suffered injuries, or were not encouraged by their parents or coaches enough. Unfortunately, sport is often competitive – there is literally the possibility for a winner and a loser. This can be very discouraging to many children who are not as strong, flexible etc, at the sport in which they are competing, and perhaps the child is just naturally not very competitive, so they sport may become boring or meaningless to them.
When all the fun is taken away from physical activity, and it’s replaced with pain or something else undesirable, the child is not going to want to continue having these experiences. It can create a complex for the child in which he or she believes they are physically stupid, and so they may follow pursuits in other areas… art, science, maths, etc. This is really quite a horrible thing, because every able body is an ABLE BODY, and so physical activities should be encouraged because it is good for their health. There should not be such a great division between the different areas explored in school – sport, art, maths, English, etc. I got to thinking that this is really no different to illiterate people. Adults who are illiterate are often illiterate for good reason. Perhaps the way reading and writing was taught to them in school was not effective for them, it did not stimulate them, or it confused them – maybe they are visual learner’s but the language was taught more aurally, for example. The child is left to struggle continuously throughout their education experience, and seeing the other children succeed suggests to the struggling child that they must be stupid. ‘Must’ turns into ‘is’, and the child is so discouraged they decide to give it up.
(This is stuff I have learned from a documentary series I watched about a man who taught reading and writing to illiterate adult people. It was terribly moving and insightful. It really helped you to understand how an adult could go through school and come out of it unable to read or write. Don’t be so judgmental, folks! Seriously, I had an ex-boyfriend, I asked him once who in this world he thinks should die, and he said ‘the illiterate’. How dare!!! Hahah).
So… where was I? Basically, I think a whole load of us could really benefit from realising these so-called divisions between ourselves and others are figments of our imaginations borne from our own prejudices and insecurities. Perhaps this man thought the illiterate should die because he is very skilled in the area of language. But it is no different than an athlete saying that the inactive or ‘non-sports-playing’ people should die!
(Granted, my ex DID have a smirk on his face when he said the illiterate should die, but I do believe he holds a judgment against them, nonetheless.)
WE’S ALL DA SAME SHIZZLE, REALLY, ANYWAY, IS MY POINT.
thepalms
Oh, and ANOTHER thing! When I did gym, we used to have a group of girls and boys who trained at our club in in ‘recreational gymnastics’. This was gymnastics with all of the pain removed and the fun kept in. It wasn’t disciplined, it was social, it wasn’t competitive, shorter hours, etc. A lot of the kids in this group were overweight, not very flexible and a bit uncoordinated. Now, I don’t know if gymnastics does this to you or not, but I recall how a couple coaches at my gym used to make jokes about this recreational gymnasts about their weight and their lack of coordination and stuff. I remember one day they were all jumping on the tumbling strip, and one MALE coach said to another coach, “Is that thunder I hear?” Everyone struggled to conceal their smirks and felt empowered for belittling these children. I find this attitude completely disgusting – these girls and boys were children and teenagers! Unfortunately, seeing this side of people turned me off, for aaaaages, the prospect of pursuing a sport or physical activity for FUN. I was afraid what the cool kids might think of me!
What a waste of time! And shame on those grown ups in positions of responsibility and teenager’s physical and mental welfare, for not only having that kind of superior, judgmental, cruel attitude, but for expressing it in front of a bunch of vulnerable and impressionable teenage girls!
But these days I don’t care about trying to impress people like that. AND I’M DOING A CIRCUS COURSE IN OCTOBER.
So POO!
gunstreetgirl
i couldn’t agree more, highschool sucked all the enjoyment out of doing anything physical so I recoiled from all activity that was vaguely sporty, I am only now feeling like I’d like to play soccer with my friends and do pilates.
thepalms
Yeah! It’s really unfortunate. It’s sort of well-intended, but just doesn’t work for everybody somehow. I found sport at school really boring. It was mostly a whole load of lining up and waiting around. Not very stimulating.
thepalms
Soccer with friends would be fun! My ex boyfriend Luke and I used to play this game of footy together, where we’d kick the ball to each other, but with each kick we had to shout out a verb like “PUNT!” “BLASTS!” It was so fun and funny! Actually, laughter with physical exercise rules. That’s a very child-like feeling. Soccer at the beach would be fun. And when you fall over it isn’t as hurt-y.
Tiggy is a bit of a scary game. I didn’t like tiggy as much because it was a bit scary. hahaha.