Just got out of the new workout class I’ve been trying and I’m pretty much feeling like a superhero. The class is inspired by ballet technique and it focuses on very small muscle isolations. The class, called Pure Barre, is basically one of the many ballet-inspired workout techniques that emerged as an answer to all the women across the universe who wanted to know just how Natalie Portman got her ballerina figure for Black Swan.
This morning I had a breakthrough. It’s only my second week of classes, and suffice to say I am definitely the weakest in a room filled with a zillion different body types and skill levels. I have been needing to tap out of some of the routines because my little body just can’t take the rigor. Especially abs. To hell with ab workouts. You’d think I’d out-ab all the 40-year-old women in the room with all of my actual ballet experience, but nope. It’s rather embarrassing, really.
That being said, the breakthrough I had this morning was my ability to not only get through the entire ab sequence without pausing for rest, but I was able to do it all without the modification I’ve been relying on to make it easier. I feel like a champion!
All of this has me thinking about the universe’s perspective of my body. I think it’s a relatively good one, and I think many people might be thinking this far in the blog: Wait, you? Why are you working out? You’re like 90 pounds! <-- I'm actually 115 pounds
OR maybe I’m full of myself and everyone does think I could stand to lose a little weight. For argument’s sake, we’ll assume everyone thinks I’m skinny…
Showing off dat flexibility!
I have always felt somewhat guilty about dieting or working out. As if I owe it to the God of Physique to just sit on my butt and enjoy my naturally-slim figure. People who have a little weight to lose say all-too-frequently how they wished they were thinner, how they hate working out, and how they wished they didn’t have to exercise or diet.
Maybe it’s because I’ve been a ballerina my whole life, or maybe it’s because I was an impressionable victim to modern day America’s pressure on women to be as thin as possible without dying, but I never feel skinny enough. Rationally, I know I’m thin. My BMI is on the lower end of average. I get it, I’m skinny. But I’m not as skinny as I want to be. I feel like I can’t tell anybody that because I’ll get slapped and say “Are you joking?”
I’m 5’4″ and 115 pounds (was 112 before Pure Barre. Thank you, muscle gain). But I’m self conscious about my body, just like the rest of the world. I say with pride that my flexibility is better than anyone’s reading this, but I am shy to admit that I can’t help but look into every mirror I pass and wish I was 5 or 10 pounds less.
I don’t hate my body. I just want it better.
I diet and exercise because I want to gain physical strength. And I want to be able to control my body. If I can’t control the acne on my face, the least I can do is get me some chiseled abs. I don’t just want to be skinny; I want to win at least one arm wrestling match, even if the opponent is another ballerina. I still want to kick that ballerina’s ass.
We do a great job at praising people who lose weight who had a little extra to lose in the first place, but we suck at handling it when a little person wants to lose weight. I hate being told I am anorexic. I’m not, and I know people might drop the A-word as a lousy attempt at a compliment, but it’s bothersome. Judgment isn’t fun on either end of the spectrum.
After my workout this morning!
|Much love and thanks to Rebekah / “Bekehh” for dragging me to my first Pure Barre class, as well as showing up at 5:45am to get uber sexy with me|