Just Because It's Possible, Doesn't Mean It's Desirable
Dear Strong & Beautifuls,
I write to you today, the last day of the year (after a brief hiatus from all things computer-related) to wish you a wonderful 2017 and to express how much I truly look forward to spending another year pulsing and sweating and getting rad with you all. It's gonna be a wild ride in more ways than one, for sure - yes, Donald Trump, but on the bright side, you may already know that Mr. Roddancerbod and I are having a baby. Like whoa, right?
I am also writing to thank you for 2016, as I am one of the (unfortunately rare) people who actually had a pretty great year, and you all were a gigantic part of that. Seeing your bodies change and hearing how you feel stronger and more connected to yourselves in the past year has made me feel stoked to do what I do and has provided me with tons of energy to keep it up. Even deeper than that, I found that when things were hard, I found the most comfort being in the studio with you (awwww). First, when David Bowie died and we worked out to his music for a solid week; later, when we did the same with Prince, trying not to cry; most especially the week of November 7th when we were speechless and frightened and grieving but felt better getting strong together; and finally, in the past almost four months of my pregnancy, when literally the only time I felt relief from "morning" sickness was during class with you. Anyway, thanks for being rad, and let's keep it up for another trip around the sun!
deep thoughts
I find the end of the year to be as good a time as any to reflect, made more poignant because just about everyone is doing so, and to share what I've learned in the past year that I'm taking with me for the next. The primary lesson is:
overtraining sucks!
It has the opposite effect of what you want it to do. At the beginning of 2016, I was teaching over 21 classes a week, and while I didn't necessarily do everything in each class full out, it was just too much, energetically and physically. I love my job, but I was exhausted all the time, was in some amount of constant pain, felt uncreative, and was even chronically puffy and (not that I entrust my self image to a bathroom scale) a nagging few pounds heavier than I felt I oughta be. I wasn't getting stronger or more flexible and I didn't look toned - you couldn't even see my hard-won Pilates abs. Hardly a good example of the benefits of Pilates, barre, and dance, or exercise at all. Even though I preached moderation, I didn't really get it for myself until I was at a surf & yoga retreat in Costa Rica. Midweek during what was supposed to be vacation of my year, doing everything I loved (swimming surfing hiking yoga dancing riding etc etc), I could barely walk from pain and was forced to sit out high tide and inversion class and just sit there in the pool. I wasn't injured, it was just my body telling me loudly what I'd been ignoring for too long which was: Stop. Doing. So. Damn. Much!
After barre class one day, a friend asked me, "You do these workouts all the time - how do you not actually weigh five pounds?" It was an honest question, not mean-spirited, and I had to ponder it a bit. If what I was teaching was so effective, why didn't it show? The answer is that overdoing anything, beneficial exercise included, can throw your body out of whack and it will compensate by overreacting. I was in a chronic inflammatory state due to overtraining, overworking and over-stressing, and it wasn't until I chilled out my schedule (and my workouts, to some degree) that I saw the traces of the body/dancer/teacher I thought I should be.
I think culturally we tend to do this in many areas of life - if a little is good, a lot is better - and that this is really not true. Oddly enough, all the things I was afraid of losing by ditching the intense schedule - money, networking, fitness, a sense of success, etc. - actually improved once I let it go. Literally all of it. And that has been true at nearly every turn in my life. When I reduce the intensity of my workout schedule a little, I tend to see better results. When I give up a job that was great but not necessarily hitting on all eight for me, my bank account somehow swells rather than dwindles. When I add a little less heat to the sauce, it tastes better. When I chill out on overthinking something, I usually get effortlessly inspired about it, or forget the issue altogether.
All this is not to say that we shouldn't get sweaty or exercise fiercely or work hard or eat spicy things. Just that being honest about what's working for us as individuals is infinitely better than following along with "recommended" guidelines or packing in extra commitments simply because we have a free hour to spare. Remember what you're training for and act accordingly. If it's the Olympics, maybe you quit drinking wine and do two-a-days with a trainer. If it's to look awesome and feel confident and strong, shoot for workouts that work for your life and do them just often enough that if you skip one for happy hour it won't derail your whole week.
Anyway, babes, the takeaway for me is a something I learned a long time ago in choreography class that some famous artist whose name I can't remember said: Just because it's possible doesn't mean it's desirable. That goes for good art, shopping, career moves, what you eat for dinner, and your workouts. So while my goals for the next year are worthy - grow the barre program at Chalk, continue to learn and live the lessons of Pilates, make a website and grow my business, have a healthy pregnancy and baby and stay rad throughout - the central thread is to prioritize my energies for a balanced, meaningful existence. That means I now have a day off each week, that I might do a little less but I do it better, and that I eat ice cream exactly when I feel like it. I hope the same for you this year in all the wonderful things you do.
All the best to you,
Annie
