mei's diary

the gym rat in me is more like a feral cat

I went to a workout class with my sister-in-law recently. It was for aerial hoop, an apparatus I tried once or twice years ago and never touched again for whatever reason. In the car on the way to the studio, we talked about our habits surrounding exercise: how some forms of working out were accessible but just not super exciting, or, if they were exciting, they usually involved a lot of microtasks or decisions that ended up being friction.

Movement is one of those things that people say you should do every day, without fail. Some of those people also say it's something you should love. I don't know about you but no matter how much I love something, I can't do it every day. So I feel like I have to choose one or the other.

Either I:

Or:

This hoop class falls neatly under the 2nd category. It was super fun.

It's always nerve-wracking going to a group fitness class as a beginner, where it feels like you're setting yourself up for public humiliation, but it was much less daunting with someone to go with who can laugh with you and help you remember no one really cares enough to hate you for the unforgivable sin of Not Being Very Good At Something.

It probably helped that getting on the hoop prettily wasn't the first, most important thing you had to do as a beginner. It was enough just to get on, even if you struggled through it and the hoop swung - ironing out the kinks could be a later task. Instead, we went right to tricks, since as long as you're on the hoop you can already start learning a handful of them. Our instructor taught us some basic ones, but we watched some of the other girls and wanted to try their tricks too, so she guided us through those - and we did them successfully!

I started at this studio - also years ago - trying pole dance (I've since fallen off the habit), and now I'm realizing that I probably should have gotten more into hoop, based on the natural fit. Not that you should never challenge yourself to do things that don't match how you're built, but between my small hands and general Sweatiness, I'm a better fit for the hoop's smaller bar diameter and non-slide wrap than the pole's big ol' girth and steel surface.

I remember a huge point of frustration for me at pole was how slow my progress seemed to be.1 To nail a pole trick (do it successfully + look good), you not only have to have that strength in places you can't really work at the gym, but good pain tolerance, muscle endurance, a good grip, a Non-Sweaty Body, etc. It took me a couple of sessions to nail a trick I learned on my first day there. Eventually I stopped going.

Hoop, I think, is hard too, but needs less of what pole asks of me, thus providing quicker rewards, since there's more I can do from the beginning. This works well on a person like me who needs novelty to stay interested.

The question now is: Is this going to be a habit?

I really enjoyed the class, but I'm not about to throw myself into it yet for the sake of ticking a box that says "found an exercise habit." Unfortunately, I've learned that I have to treat the part of me that wants to be active like a feral cat - give her space, take it slow, don't force too much on her too soon, etc. or else she'll run away and never let me try and help her. She's got to warm to the idea herself. So I'll give it another week or so before I ask.

(There was a time years ago that I was at the pole studio four times a week because I liked it so much.2 I wonder if I can get to that point again.)

  1. Part of it was the small sweaty hands thing, but another part was the fact that at the time, I was in college in a different country, with no pole studio near me, so I was basically starting from scratch every time I got home.

  2. I didn't feel rewarded accomplishments-wise (again, I was really poor at the tricks and things!), but the rewards that kept me going back then were more social and personal - I made friends with the other students, and, as an insecure girl out of high school, felt Cool and Strong getting into pole dance.

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