SHAPE your own SELF esteem

I used to do these talks called "Fireside Chats" with young women. We would talk about self esteem, internal/external motivators, and cultural and peer pressures, among other things. One exercise that we would do would be to look through magazines, specifically ones that market themselves as health and fitness magazines such as Shape, and Self among others. I would have the girls pick photos of women they would like to physically emulate and we would discuss it. One thing we talked about was the prevalence of photo shopping. We all agreed that the images of women we were seeing in these magazines had been photo shopped, but it did not seem to have a bearing on the fact that the vast majority of these young women still wanted to look like these models. That led us to a discussion of intellectualizing versus emotionalizing. Intellectually, they knew it was impossible to look like something that literally was not real. ( Why not Wilma Flinstone? She had a tiny waist!) But emotionally they just couldn't get past the pressure they felt to look like that model. (Real or not.) Poor girls.
Sadly, although these were college coeds, and high school girls, this emotional/intellectual dichotomy exists for women of all ages in our culture. I have been a personal trainer and group fitness instructor for 24 years. October 2012 will mark my 25th year in this industry. I have always tried to encourage clients and students to work from the inside out. Striving for health, strength, and performance are positive motivators. Striving to look like a cartoon character, or prepubescent model who's had her waist shrunk, neck lengthened, acne removed, eyes lifted and jaw widened is a negative motivator. What I noticed early on in my career was that for clients who adhered to the former of the two motivators,  progress was swift, enduring, and fun. The latter by contrast, always frustrating, tear filled and fruitless. The same holds true today.
Instead of focusing on baby weight that hasn't come off as fast as the latest celebrity mom's, or getting frustrated because you can't get rid of the dimples in your thighs, or the little layer of skin that your bra squeezes under your arm pit, or whatever weird new physical sin that has been foisted upon you, try focusing on getting stronger, running a little longer or faster, learning a new movement pattern and perfecting it, trying a challenging new sport or exercise, or learning to breath, or touch your toes. The rest will come. AND better yet, even if it doesn't, you won't care because you'll feel accomplished, you'll have improved self esteem, and you'll be proud of yourself.

And one more thing. Stop Buying the damn magazines that make you feel bad about yourself in the first place. Now go on with your bad selves! Roar!

I'm Okay You're Okay..............Okay?

Several years ago, my sister and I took a drive to La Conner Wa. There is a Tulip festival up there every year, and we decided, on a whim to take a drive and check it out. I've always been a sucker for the clean lines, and vibrant colors of a Tulip, indeed they are my favorite flower (Dahias, calm down you're pretty too.) In classic Washington State style however, the weather was cold, the Tulips were late, and we ended up looking at fields of green stalks.......We are not a couple gals who turn tail and give up on an adventure, so we wandered into town, found the nicest little restaurant and bar, and sidled on up for lunch and a glass of wine. As we sat chatting we couldn't help but overhear a very tense, angry and volatile interaction at the tale next to us. It turned out that the gentleman at the table had ordered a burger that took too long to appear before him, and when it finally did, it was not up to his carnivorous standards. After the server apologized, comped everyone's meal at the table, prostrated herself for flogging, and promised to live a miserable, and tortured existence, to make up for her wayward, service transgression, the table seemed slightly less hysterical and they got up to leave. Around that same time, I got up to use the restroom, and overheard the disgruntled carnivore in the hallway discussing his recent burger trauma with his date. And he said, and I quote: "That was one of the worst experiences of my life." Yup. You heard it here, tardy, bad burger = worst experience EVER!
I recently returned from a trip to San Diego for the annual IDEA World Fitness Conference. It was fine. I could have done with a little less self promotion and gadgetry, but over all it wasn't the best ( that would be Vegas 2005 um, Forum shops...) it wasn't the worst( that would be Anaheim 2000 um, Anaheim) it just kind of.....was. San Diego is pretty, the weather was nice, and the hotel was a hotel. The EXPO was small, but the sales push was big, big, big, this year. Every workout was going to Clean your clock! Kick Your ass! Wipe the floor with you! Stand on your hands! On a BOSU! With your eyes closed! juggling with your feet! No your FOOT, just one juggling foot! While someone punches you in the face and sprays you with a garden hose! You'll be the best! BEST! The most ripped! Your skin will look like saran wrap covering sinew! Like raw fucking steak!  THE BEST! BEST!!!!!!! It's the most fun. FUN! And hard it's so fucking hard you might not even live to tell a soul how hard it was.  But what's that I hear? Namaste? Huh? Ommm? What? Peaceful, breathy, flowy, stretchy, soooooooo happy. The HAPPIEST! Buddah, tummy, kiss, kiss, love love, smoochipie. Ain'tnothingonnabreakamystride, did I say Namatste? Wrap my leg around my neck, and stand on one foot? Carve sanskrit into my stomach? Pull my foot up over my shoulder? Both feet? And walk on my hands? And chant? And breathe? And be happy? ALWAYS be happy. hug a lot too.

Here's the deal. If the burger dude was honest when he proclaimed that a cold, belated burger equated to one of the worst experiences of his life, he has lead a mighty charmed life. Where do I sign up?
Conversely, Not every workout, has to push one to the point of mental and physical breakdown. Alas, yoga will not pay your bills, or fix your marriage. It absolutely can help manage stress as can many other forms of physical exertion. Adrenaline, endorphins, dopamine, oxygen, can make us all feel better. But yoga in and of itself does not make one a good person, just as the ability to balance on a BOSU does not make one an Olympic gymnast, or an NFL running back. But isn't that okay? Isn't it okay just to be okay? Just to have a day.?Just a day. A plain old random day. And isn't it okay to be pissed off sometimes? And happy, more times hopefully? It's okay for your kid to go to a state school or even, wait for it Community College!!!!! Dun dun Duuuuuun! Or how about this, maybe no college. Maybe she'll write poetry, drive a lunch truck and live with her boyfriend and their cat. Enough with the pressure, already. I just feel so guilty these days if I don't wax hyperbolic about, well about just about everything. I feel bad if I'm not super happy happy HAPPY! And I feel bad if I'm not OUTRAGED! about some stupid shit some nutjob said on FOX. I feel awkward if I'm not shitting a 5 lane freeway over the cheese I just ate, the music I just heard, the workout I just created, or the convention I just attended. I love, and I mean this, I really love my students and clients. But some times, like this morning in Kinesis for instance, it was just good enough that they got there, moved their bodies and felt good about getting their day started. And that made me feel..............Good enough.