Working it out

What’s your relationship like with exercise? More deeply, how would you describe the relationship you have with yourself and your body? Upon exploring this question personally, I recognise the distinct correlation between how an ever improving and evolving relationship with self, has impacted on how I exercise and treat my body. To understand this better, I'll trace my forty-year journey with movement, inviting you to reflect on your own experiences along the way.

Reading time: 8 minutes

To begin with it’s a giant leap back to being five years old and starting at a dance school. I attended classes week in week out covering a wide repertoire of styles, regular exams, shows and festivals, fuelled by sequins and hairspray for just short of ten years. From an early age my body was accustomed to regular doses of movement. When the teenage years struck I left the dance school, cut off all my beautiful long blonde hair, got a perm and set out on a mission to engage in way less healthy interests that grabbed my youthful attention. It took a good few years before I reengaged with exercise again.

This time it came in the form of aerobics and step classes at local village halls and leisure centres. I fell in love with this style of fitness, especially the leotards and legwarmers. It was a welcome shift from the pure dance in my youth but still with choreography and music to motivate. My dance background enabled me to grasp the routines quickly and my muscle memory jolted back into action. I thought the teachers were incredible and the buzz I got after a workout was unbeatable. Over time, I felt a physiological shift; my body craved movement and I loved the feeling afterward. I would seek out fitness classes wherever I lived and travelled to as they brought immense joy. From ginormous, raucous Aerobics in Indonesia, to Step Class on a sticky carpet at the pub over the road from my student digs in Leeds. The fire in my belly to move was fully lit and after finishing Uni I trained to be an Exercise to Music Instructor.

Whilst I got a lot of pleasure from fitness, I would also describe my general approach to training back then as fierce and at times, punishing. I would barely want a rest day enduring classes till my body ached. This borderline aggressive approach to exercise started to take its toll on my body and I started to worry that whilst my aim and objective was to be fit and healthy, in the process, I was also inadvertently potentially doing some damage too.

I lived in Manchester for a bit and was a regular at the local leisure centre. I continued my love for hard cardio classes and at times dabbled in yoga. Back then, yoga didn't satisfy my need for intense, sweat-inducing workouts. Running did though and I got really into it. I remember the first time I ran for thirty mins all in one go. It was not far from the Kellogg’s Factory with the smell of sugar dusting lingering in the air. I was mightily impressed with myself and got the bug, signing up for my first 10K in Manchester not long after. Friends came down from the Lake District and we did it together taking photos of us biting our medals afterwards. I was hooked and embarked on various 10k’s before signing up to do my first half marathon, The Great North Run. Following that was the Leeds half and then Birmingham’s. Each milestone felt previously unattainable, making a marathon the logical next step.

I signed up to the Brathay Windermere Marathon and set out on a six-month training process. I loved the training, and my motivation stayed consistent, once I’d committed, I was fully invested. That’s not to say the training wasn’t strenuous, but each time I hit a new distance it was a high and at that point for me, everything after thirteen miles was a new record. Marathon day in Windermere was tough; the inclines were far steeper than anything I'd encountered in Birmingham, and by mile six, I was struggling. However, as time went on, I found my rhythm and realised the true stamina in this marathon was going to be the mental one. I imagined friends pushing my back up the hills and kept repeating a mantra of ‘one foot in front of the other.’ During the last mile I’m not sure I had any control over my body whatsoever but my only aim was just to keep running and I did, when I crossed the line I was sobbing with happiness. Completing the Brathay marathon in 4 hours 15 minutes was a life-affirming experience—a true bucket-list moment. The impact on my knees and legs was significant, but I rationalised it as the price of my passion for cardio.

Once I got my body back intact I started to wonder, could I do one in 4 hours? A few years later whilst living in Birmingham, the city was hosting its first full marathon, so I decided this was my chance to beat the time. I started the training process, but something was off, I put it down to not having the same glee every time I reached a new goal and with my usual approach kept pushing through. My body clearly wasn't responding well to the heavy training; my energy plummeted. But I stubbornly pushed forward, relying on mind over matter. During the training period I was over in Morocco for a couple of weeks undertaking the first part of my first 200-hour yoga teacher training course. The marathon was only a month or so away, so it was pivotal I kept the training up. For anyone reading this who hasn’t been on a yoga teacher training course before, let me tell you they can be rather gruelling. The training was intense, with 5 am starts for morning practice and sessions continuing until 9 pm. In the middle of the day there was a window, a 3-hour break for lunch and rest so during that window I had to get my training done. This consisted of lengthy runs down the coast to get the miles in. I really love running in the heat with new sights to enjoy but it felt full on amidst the course, however what choice did I have?

Our relationship with exercise and inviting a more mindful approach.

On one of the nights in Morocco there was an option to have a Thai yoga massage, if you’ve never had one, I fully recommend it, my first one was truly remarkable. I was pushed, pulled, clicked, and stretched in more directions than one and it felt epic. Then, as we came towards the end of the session, a very illuminating conversation happened. The massage therapist said he’d seen me running during the breaks and asked why I was doing it. I explained that I had a marathon booked and was going to be raising money for a charity so was keeping on top of the training. He asked me again, yes but why are you doing it? I was a bit confused, wasn’t my answer sufficient, surely it made sense. He then said to me ‘your body doesn’t want to do it, haven’t you noticed? Your body has been trying to tell you.’ I was stopped in my tracks. I mean that’s exactly what my body has been communicating throughout the entire training process but surely, I didn’t need to actually listen to it? Because if I did, that might mean not doing the marathon which would be utterly absurd. He responded by saying that I could raise money in lots of ways, so it doesn’t explain why I was continuing to run when my body didn’t want me to. I was stunned that he so quickly recognised what I'd been feeling for months, and that he suggested I withdraw from the marathon—an unthinkable option at the time.

Over the next few days, I just couldn’t get those words out of my head. I kept up the training in Morocco but when I got back home, I made a dramatic, out-of-character decision: I withdrew from the marathon. I thought I would feel shame and disappointment in myself on making this decision but in fact it was the opposite. It felt like the first time I had made a decision based on what was right for my body, a concept which initially felt harder than actually running a marathon. Ultimately, the decision wasn't based on his advice, but on finally acknowledging what I had been feeling all along – a choice that proved to be absolutely right. This also coincided with the intensive yoga training, a journey of personal development that shines a light on you like nothing I had witnessed previously, you can’t hide from yourself once yoga is on the scene. On the day of the marathon, I went and cheered my friends and colleagues along from the sideline's and felt weirdly ok, more than ok, I was probably also cheering for myself whilst standing in the park that day. I was embarking on a completely new direction.

I began to reshape the relationship with my body and exercise to become one of collaboration. We began working together, fully enhanced by the yoga practice and ethos, I embarked on tuning into what felt right and what didn’t. This new approach was mindful, caring, and a world away from my previous punishing regime. As humans our energy, emotions, sleep, and moods naturally fluctuate. Paying attention to these fluctuations is crucial; working in harmony with them allows us to truly thrive.

As a result of the yoga training, I naturally incorporated the practice more into my daily routine. In yoga the Sanskrit term ‘Ashtanga’ means ‘eight limbs’ and one of those limbs is ‘Asana’ which is a Sanskrit word for posture. This covers the physical elements of the practice. I steadily began to integrate asana into my routine, and it will be of no surprise to hear my body started to feel renewed. I realised I had neglected stretching and strengthening, which explained why my body felt so unstable. Over time my body began to adapt to the glorious asana practice, I could feel the strength building from within my centre and radiate out to my limbs providing them with comfort, stability and support. Not only this, but I also got so much better at understanding my bodies wisdom and wanted to do everything within my control to give it what it deserved, the best.

I still enjoy running occasionally—not only is it free, but also provides a sense of freedom and fresh air. Now, I run purely for pleasure, at my own pace and for as long as feels good. I am a morning exerciser by choice, and I decide what to do and when, based on how I feel that day. To figure out how I want to move each day I check in with myself, firstly considering how much time and energy I have, then I ask the question, what do you fancy today? It might be the gym, some yoga at home, nature walks or a bike ride. It might be for 2 hours or 10 mins. I might run fast and hard, take a slow yoga flow or take rest and do nothing. It’s all entirely dependent on what I feel like and what response comes when I ask and listen. This more responsive approach is the healthiest relationship I’ve had with my body and exercise; compassion is at the very centre of the process and with years and years now under my belt I’m pretty sure it’s here to stay.

I don’t know what your relationship is like to your body or to movement, maybe you’re ahead of me and learnt this years ago but if not how does taking a similar approach sound? I know these shifts often require personal experience to fully take root, but I hope this story plants a seed of possibility for you. How the body keeps our systems running efficiently is utterly magical, all the intricate mechanics that enable us to go about our day to day lives is miraculous. So, as a gesture of respect for this incredible feat of engineering—my body—I've entrusted it with the role of guide, fully tuning in to its wisdom.

“There is a conversation happening inside you, pay deep attention to what your inner world is saying” Rupi Kaur – Home Body