When I have time, I'll compile a list of quotations. Until then, I'll post them as a I find them. Today's nugget:
"Athletes teach you that behind any kind of confidence is conditioning. And behind any inspiration is hard work. They also teach you that creative decision making — clarity of thought, and composure — is directly related to your physical state." --Sally Jenkins, Washington Post
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Thursday, August 10, 2006
A Musclehead's Take on "Mind-Body" Fitness
Don't get me wrong -- I am all for yoga, Pilates, and dancing, and I believe that facilitating a better relationship between mind and body is of significance for almost every client I encounter (and for me!) However, I'm a bit uncomfortable with the way the use of the term "mind-body" is shaping up. It seems to me that it is being used in a way that perpetuates our culture's skewed relations with the body.
One consequence is that people are being sold on exercise programs that aren't adequate to helping them reach their goals of weight loss, cardiovascular health, or protection against osteoporosis. Another is that people are not being educated about the mind-related benefits of traditional cardiovascular and resistance training.
Take a look at the marketing for Pilates: Women are promised that they "won't bulk up," that they will instead develop "long, lean" muscles." That line of conversation is, in my opinion, a bit too accomodating of the body image burden women receive and impose upon ourselves. It is also misleading: People who are genetically predisposed to building large, full muscles will bulk up to a certain degree through Pilates, though not as much as if they did a routine specifically designed to build muscle. If doing Pilates allows such people to avoid building muscle, it's not because their body type has changed; they have simply sacrificed the bone-building and strength that a more intense program would have provided along with the "extra" muscle.
Then there's the association of gentler forms of exercise with contemplative activity. Is contemplative, meditative activity the only mental break people need from multitasking, politicking, and worrying? It is not. Focused play is valuable. I'm writing here of the sort of mental effort employed to strategize in a basketball game, coach the aching legs through a long run, or psych out a racquetball opponent while dodging a fast-moving ball.
Which brings me to the elephant in the living room -- a certain hostility, in some quarters, towards competitive sports. What unifies practices as far from one another as tai chi and Pliates is their distance from sporting activities that are scored or measured (even if the competition is with oneself.)
The mind-body split reflects a much more pervasive divide in the culture. The "work ethic" exiles the "being" self in favor of the "doing" self. In our attempt to get it back into our days, we must be wary of the danger of exiling the "doing" self from our play.
Don't get me wrong -- I am all for yoga, Pilates, and dancing, and I believe that facilitating a better relationship between mind and body is of significance for almost every client I encounter (and for me!) However, I'm a bit uncomfortable with the way the use of the term "mind-body" is shaping up. It seems to me that it is being used in a way that perpetuates our culture's skewed relations with the body.
One consequence is that people are being sold on exercise programs that aren't adequate to helping them reach their goals of weight loss, cardiovascular health, or protection against osteoporosis. Another is that people are not being educated about the mind-related benefits of traditional cardiovascular and resistance training.
Take a look at the marketing for Pilates: Women are promised that they "won't bulk up," that they will instead develop "long, lean" muscles." That line of conversation is, in my opinion, a bit too accomodating of the body image burden women receive and impose upon ourselves. It is also misleading: People who are genetically predisposed to building large, full muscles will bulk up to a certain degree through Pilates, though not as much as if they did a routine specifically designed to build muscle. If doing Pilates allows such people to avoid building muscle, it's not because their body type has changed; they have simply sacrificed the bone-building and strength that a more intense program would have provided along with the "extra" muscle.
Then there's the association of gentler forms of exercise with contemplative activity. Is contemplative, meditative activity the only mental break people need from multitasking, politicking, and worrying? It is not. Focused play is valuable. I'm writing here of the sort of mental effort employed to strategize in a basketball game, coach the aching legs through a long run, or psych out a racquetball opponent while dodging a fast-moving ball.
Which brings me to the elephant in the living room -- a certain hostility, in some quarters, towards competitive sports. What unifies practices as far from one another as tai chi and Pliates is their distance from sporting activities that are scored or measured (even if the competition is with oneself.)
The mind-body split reflects a much more pervasive divide in the culture. The "work ethic" exiles the "being" self in favor of the "doing" self. In our attempt to get it back into our days, we must be wary of the danger of exiling the "doing" self from our play.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
"The Strenuous Life"
Time Magazine profiled Teddy Roosevelt in its "The Making of America" series. One of the articles, entitled "The Self-Made Man" described Teddy's devotion to physical exercise and adventure, his early fascination with the natural sciences, and the way that Roosevelt's advocacy of the environment reflected these personal passions.
Roosevelt is an extreme example. However, the tendency to work hard mentally, then work hard physically (as opposed, perhaps, to working hard and playing hard) is a familiar pattern. Pavlov launched a "physicians' athletic league" and claimed that he preferred physical toil to mental toil, and most enjoyed the two in combination. Darwin rode the backs of giant turtles. One-hundred-year old Albert Hofmann still swims, walks, and rides his bike daily -- and is still working -- more than fifty years after his discovery of LSD, which he ingested on a day counterculture trivia buffs call Bicycle Day.
Time Magazine profiled Teddy Roosevelt in its "The Making of America" series. One of the articles, entitled "The Self-Made Man" described Teddy's devotion to physical exercise and adventure, his early fascination with the natural sciences, and the way that Roosevelt's advocacy of the environment reflected these personal passions.
Roosevelt is an extreme example. However, the tendency to work hard mentally, then work hard physically (as opposed, perhaps, to working hard and playing hard) is a familiar pattern. Pavlov launched a "physicians' athletic league" and claimed that he preferred physical toil to mental toil, and most enjoyed the two in combination. Darwin rode the backs of giant turtles. One-hundred-year old Albert Hofmann still swims, walks, and rides his bike daily -- and is still working -- more than fifty years after his discovery of LSD, which he ingested on a day counterculture trivia buffs call Bicycle Day.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
So, if a structured lifestyle is out, what is the configuration of my ideal day? I would characterize it as orderly but in an organic way, not driven by anything as arbitrary as a clock.
1. Synchronization with the sun: When I have the freedom to control my schedule, I wake up when the sun rises. That means that my wake up time changes with the season.
2. Related to item #1, I have as much natural light as is possible. When I worked for a network of health clubs a few years ago, I chose to hold my training appointments in the two clubs with huge windows looking out over a pool and courtyard.
3. "Can we have class outside?" (a question asked of almost every teacher on almost every really nice spring school day I remember!) Even on days when my main activity is (I confess) watching television, I take breaks between favorite programs to go outside for at least half an hour at a time.
4. Changes of scenery. At more than one job in the past, I've selected duties that allowed me to spend part of my workday at one location and part at another. On my best days now, I have a 6am dog walk, 8am workout, a couple of hours in a cafe with the laptop, another dog walk, a few hours sitting with cats or playing with dogs at the SPCA, dinner in a restaurant with a book/notebook, some social time with friends, and a few hours in front of the tube before bed. Working the eight-hour work shift feels like being stuck in a particularly creepy episode of the Twilight Zone.
5. Open body language. I didn't realize how important this was to me until I briefly worked for an organization that sent young instructors into public schools to teach physical education. During the training session, I observed that my colleagues, fellow kinesthetics, spent break times chatting while doing sit ups, shooting hoops, rather than sitting or standing still. I noticed that I was breathing continuously! I did not have the sensation I've had when working office jobs -- that I took a giant breath as soon as I stepped out of the doors. I had attributed it to office formality or stress. I believe it is just the strain of being in a group of people who do not constantly move and the unconscious stifling I do to fit in.
I think I've discovered the fountain of youth -- JUST saying NO to the "straight job" track. My body needs to know it's alive!
1. Synchronization with the sun: When I have the freedom to control my schedule, I wake up when the sun rises. That means that my wake up time changes with the season.
2. Related to item #1, I have as much natural light as is possible. When I worked for a network of health clubs a few years ago, I chose to hold my training appointments in the two clubs with huge windows looking out over a pool and courtyard.
3. "Can we have class outside?" (a question asked of almost every teacher on almost every really nice spring school day I remember!) Even on days when my main activity is (I confess) watching television, I take breaks between favorite programs to go outside for at least half an hour at a time.
4. Changes of scenery. At more than one job in the past, I've selected duties that allowed me to spend part of my workday at one location and part at another. On my best days now, I have a 6am dog walk, 8am workout, a couple of hours in a cafe with the laptop, another dog walk, a few hours sitting with cats or playing with dogs at the SPCA, dinner in a restaurant with a book/notebook, some social time with friends, and a few hours in front of the tube before bed. Working the eight-hour work shift feels like being stuck in a particularly creepy episode of the Twilight Zone.
5. Open body language. I didn't realize how important this was to me until I briefly worked for an organization that sent young instructors into public schools to teach physical education. During the training session, I observed that my colleagues, fellow kinesthetics, spent break times chatting while doing sit ups, shooting hoops, rather than sitting or standing still. I noticed that I was breathing continuously! I did not have the sensation I've had when working office jobs -- that I took a giant breath as soon as I stepped out of the doors. I had attributed it to office formality or stress. I believe it is just the strain of being in a group of people who do not constantly move and the unconscious stifling I do to fit in.
I think I've discovered the fountain of youth -- JUST saying NO to the "straight job" track. My body needs to know it's alive!
Saturday, May 13, 2006
On Structure
I am one of those "creative" people who are drained by conventional, structured work environments. A stock character. We are often told, and can come to believe ourselves, that our need for novelty is purely psychological. Perhaps, though, we have learned that our best energy management strategy is to allow for strong ebbs and flows -- and, ultimately, does it matter whether this tendency is "psychological" or just the way we're "wired"?
In Psychology Today, creativity researcher Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi writes, "Creative people have a great deal of physical energy, but they're also often quiet and at rest. ... The important thing is that they control their energy; it's not ruled by the calendar, the dock, an external schedule. ... They consider the rhythm of activity followed by idleness or reflection very important for the success of their work. This is not a bio-rhythm inherited with their genes; it was learned by trial and error as a strategy for achieving their goals."
Stanford researchers Connie Strong and Terence Ketter, MD, announced in a press release the results of their preliminary study, which "found healthy artists to be more similar in personality to individuals with manic depression than to healthy people in the general population."
There's this observation from one of the U.S.'s most well-adjusted "creatives": Stewart Brand, creator the Whole Earth Catalog in the 1960s and of the Global Business Network (a membership organization for business leaders) in the 1980s, told Fortune magazine that "the most productive people he knows have developed ways to work outside offices, not in them."
My lingering question is whether an office setting is actually generative for those people who find it comfortable. Evidently I'm not alone in asking the question. The article Brain Death by Dull Cubicle has been making the rounds. It discusses research that suggests that the brain does not keep up the process of neurogenesis when the animal spends its time in an understimulating environment.
I am one of those "creative" people who are drained by conventional, structured work environments. A stock character. We are often told, and can come to believe ourselves, that our need for novelty is purely psychological. Perhaps, though, we have learned that our best energy management strategy is to allow for strong ebbs and flows -- and, ultimately, does it matter whether this tendency is "psychological" or just the way we're "wired"?
In Psychology Today, creativity researcher Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi writes, "Creative people have a great deal of physical energy, but they're also often quiet and at rest. ... The important thing is that they control their energy; it's not ruled by the calendar, the dock, an external schedule. ... They consider the rhythm of activity followed by idleness or reflection very important for the success of their work. This is not a bio-rhythm inherited with their genes; it was learned by trial and error as a strategy for achieving their goals."
Stanford researchers Connie Strong and Terence Ketter, MD, announced in a press release the results of their preliminary study, which "found healthy artists to be more similar in personality to individuals with manic depression than to healthy people in the general population."
There's this observation from one of the U.S.'s most well-adjusted "creatives": Stewart Brand, creator the Whole Earth Catalog in the 1960s and of the Global Business Network (a membership organization for business leaders) in the 1980s, told Fortune magazine that "the most productive people he knows have developed ways to work outside offices, not in them."
My lingering question is whether an office setting is actually generative for those people who find it comfortable. Evidently I'm not alone in asking the question. The article Brain Death by Dull Cubicle has been making the rounds. It discusses research that suggests that the brain does not keep up the process of neurogenesis when the animal spends its time in an understimulating environment.
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