Spin and Breath

Spin. It’s my favourite. It was my favourite twelve years ago when I first fell pregnant and had to stop.

It’s so interesting that when we are carrying an unborn life the message suddenly becomes, ‘take care of yourself’ and ‘don’t push yourself too hard’, as if the life that was already in us is less precious and valuable. That we didn’t need taking care of before.

I stopped for my pregnancy and did gentler, more ‘appropriate’ exercise. Before I had a chance to get back to it I had another little life inside of me. I did manage some classes between pregnancy two and three because there was more time between and a gym opened near us with amazing creche facilities and a really supportive community of Mums.

I was also unknowingly dealing with the physical and mental repercussions of some pretty significant burnout at that time. As a result, it didn’t last long and I stopped going to gyms for a long time after that.

My body just said no to any kind of class that wasn’t going to be on my terms. I felt lazy for it, I felt ‘soft’, I felt like I was giving up on something, that I could no longer handle it. That burpees, bootcamp and being pushed physically, weren’t things I was capable of being a part of anymore. I told myself ‘I don’t do gyms’ and that was that because I wasn’t able to understand or communicate my boundaries in that kind of environment back then.

Instead I stayed away. I did yoga online at home or one on one when it was possible. I went for long walks, got myself a bike and baby seat and when I felt up to it I ran- on my terms at my pace.
I told myself that solo exercise was just more my thing.

Towards the end of last year Spin class came onto my radar and I was surprised to feel excited about the prospect of going back. There was a class on my day off, I could get a class pass that wouldn’t expire, I could potentially go at my pace, on my terms. So I tried it.

I was welcomed and shown the bucket in the corner of the room with a laugh. I laughed to myself knowing I would not be needing it. Knowing I hadn’t brought my tiger with me and nothing would be pushing or chasing me but myself. Knowing that I would be taking care of myself while exercising my body. That my nervous system had healed considerably since I last put it to the test in this way. I didn’t need to say or explain a word, only honour my boundary and hold my own energy around it.

(This looks like responding to “Go Go Go Push HAAAARDER” with a smile and a nod and then listening to my body. My body might say “Yes let’s go” or it may say “This is as much as I can do right now”.)

The first class back after five or more years felt good, but not how I remembered it. Those years of yoga and breath work, of learning to move my body while in conversation with my body meant that I breathed differently through the class and so it felt completely different.

I didn’t feel panicked or like I just wanted it to hurry up and be over so that I could feel the endorphin hit! My body moved, my muscles ached but my nervous system didn’t suffer like it used to. It was receiving messages constantly throughout that I was safe, that I was choosing this, that I didn’t require it to take over to protect me and ensure my survival. It certainly didn’t need to empty my gastric contents (vomit) or redirect blood flow to my major organs (pass out). There was a feeling of calm and ease, of an understanding that I was and would listen before we ever got there.

I don’t take the tiger with me to the gym anymore and without the tiger a gym class is something I can absolutely do. I just take my body and I prioritise listening to it and taking care of it as I move and exercise. Even though it’s just me living in it right now.

The gym isn’t off limits anymore, it needed to be for that period of time so that I could gain a better understanding of what ‘my terms’ are and why they are my terms. So now I can go, even to an intense class designed to push us to our limits and I can do that class in a way that is healthy and beneficial to me.