8: Fusion of Movement

My arms are like noodles.  I'm amazed my fingers work despite being attached to hollow sleeves of jello.

Welcome to the fourth week of the quest, and the second week of training.  Up this week, Fusion of Movement Studio in Prescott Valley.  From dance, fitness and karate, plus everything inbetween, this rocking facility is so popular it had to double its space in the first ten months of business.

Seriously, my elbows are still shaking.

Ben & Sasha are a husband and wife team, running the studio as family friendly as you can get with a nursery & playroom for your little ones.  They offer classes in both the mornings and evenings for flexibility; today I took part in morning Suspension Training.  I had absolutely no clue what this was, and decided to go into this morning cold (perhaps that explains the nerves?)

Yes, suspension was actually involved...

Alexis greeted me with a smile, and gave me her background as I went into reporter mode.  I figured there might be some stuff I couldn't handle, but I was optimistic (as always) after a week at boot camp.  The music was turned up, and warm ups commence.  I was confident!  I could do these!

Maybe a little uncoordinated, but...

Wow.  These people can MOVE.

It is at this point that I realize I am in big time trouble.  Not only cannot I not "move to the music" but as one challenged with gangly arms and legs, there is no way for me to learn new movements in seconds.  Hours, yes, seconds, no.  I manage to muddle through, feeling subconscious as I look in the floor to ceiling mirror facing me.  Once again, my shirt is not long enough (tall girl issue) and I see nothing but a middle-aged woman with saddlebags looking at me.  Gone is my Lagertha hair which gave me so much confidence yesterday that I could tackle a year of exercise.  Gone is the cute figure I cut in my workout clothes this morning.  Instead, all I see is the flushed face of concern.

Cut to my morning encourager, the excuse monster.

My excuse monster is cute, even though he is short.

"It's no good."

Call me the geek - but this is what I hear.  "It's no good."  My body does not want to engage in what is sure to be torture.  I need to sit down and become a reporter.  Warm ups are over, and we kneel, inserting our feet in the straps, facing the ground in a plank position.  Oh, boy.

You can just barely see my suspended foot.

We start with a set of mountain climbers.  Both legs suspended, moving as if you were (duh) climbing a mountain.  We continue with more sets of three, and I know my core simply is not strong enough.  That's when I hear Alexis utter the magic word:  Modify.

Modify:

verb (used with object), modified, modifying.

1. to change somewhat the form or qualities of; alter partially; amend.

I could modify this workout, just as I had the week before.  Yes, this was a different environment - very focused, very structured, but I could modify the exercises to my capabilities.

Thank you, Sweet Jesus.

I'm gonna be real disappointed if Jesus doesn't look like the picture that hung on my mother's living room wall.

 
Alexis had noticed my struggles, and had slipped in modifications without drawing attention to them.  I was able to continue on and exercise, even though I could not do things requiring a strong core (or strong arms or strong legs...shall I continue?)  We worked our legs, then switched to arms.  I was delighted that there were a few of them I actually kept up on (let me stress - just a FEW) and I truly enjoyed the fact that suspension allowed you to use your body weight to exercise.  I learned that the sets were repeated in three's, and it gave me the opportunity to "spread out" my endurance.  As we finished the last set, I knew I had it in me to do the reps without modification.  It wasn't like a decision to engage in the exercise, but more like dipping a toe in the water.

It felt good.

There, I said it.  The King of Athletics of the Central Highlands will be pleased as punch I admitted it, so I might recant it if he crows too loud.

Of course, that's what I actually want; him to crow loudly about me doing good.  Are you reading this, Thomas?

Cool down was a struggle as I had to balance; it's a skill that needs to be sharpened.  Afterwards, I chatted with Alexis and a few class members; she wanted to make certain I felt ok.  I shared with her that once I started the modifications, I did fine.  It wasn't that I was focused on making them easier, but rather on modifying them to my strength level.  She smiled.  "That's exactly what it is about!  People think they need to come in here and be able to handle the workout.  Modifying them so that you can complete them is more important.  We aren't competitive here.  We want you to have a good, safe workout at your level of fitness, and to enjoy it."

Alexis makes it look soooo easy!  It's not!

Sara, one of the students, shared she did not grow up in a competitive environment.  "When you grow up uncompetitive, we do tend to let ourselves go; it's really uncomfortable to be in a place that encourages it.  Here you are encouraged to workout at your level of fitness and progress."

As a woman who hates exercise, I realize I did have a sort of breakthrough.  Modification meant I could work out, and take the challenge presented to my level of fitness (which is still really poor, I'd like to stress.  I am well aware that to get to shield maiden I have a long way to go.)

Have I mentioned my goal?

Well, my final trainer will be the King of Athletics of the Central Highlands.  I will follow his workout for a week.  I kinda also sorta challenged him to a dual.

Good lord, not with guns.

With a broadsword.

Why ever not?

Love her hair, so why not emulate her skill with a sword, too?

He says I'll need to sign waivers first.  I'm counting on the fact that he won't train with a broadsword.

Of course, I'll need to find someone to train me first - but that's all part of the Quest.  It's a journey to find fitness physically and mentally.  Perhaps it can bring some fitness to our marriage as well?  After 17 years, things do tend to become stale in some areas.

Nothing that flowers couldn't fix.

It's snowing when I leave the studio.  No hike today; the wintery mix is too unpredictable.  I hate going three days without a hike; the fresh air would have done me good.  Instead I drive home with noodle arms, reflecting on the the stumbling block I had identified and overcome.

Instead of looking in the mirror at what I was, and refusing to continue because it was hard, I modified it into something I could do - and then pushed on.  I didn't quit when I realized I couldn't do it - I found a way to  make it work.  And the work I had ahead of me?  I'd make that work, too.  I could do this. 

Tim Gunn, the anti-excuse monster.

Maybe.

"It doesn't look good."

We shall see.