“Fitness is being able to do what the body can do, when it
needs to, for things we imagine, for the age we are and the needs of our lives
at the moment.” This is a marvelously broad and affirming definition of
fitness, though not one I seem able to believe. Tough to cite one’s own words
and realize an impotent center to them. (see A New Question Begins, 12-16-12).
Much more regular in my thoughts are the monolithic tropes of the overculture,
particularly with respect to feminine form. “Being fit” in my head usually
means
- wearing size 10 or smaller clothing
- having slim to no hips, thin thighs, absolutely flat stomach
- running a marathon or being a tri-athlete
- never eating sweets, pizza, or fatty foods
There, Crossfit suggests three basic standards to fitness.
The first includes ten recognized, general physical skills: cardiovascular/respiratory endurance,
stamina, strength, flexibility, power, speed, coordination, agility, balance, and accuracy. “You are as fit as you are
competent in each of these ten skills,” they write. They also observe that some
training improves competence through organic changes in the body (endurance,
stamina, strength, flexibility) while others improve through practice, changes
in the nervous system (coordination, agility, balance, accuracy). “Power and
speed are adaptations of both training and practice.” The symmetrical balance
of body and ‘mind’ here pleases my sense of proportion. Makes sense that
fitness should have a good balance of both physical and mental acuity.
The second fitness standard marks a high bar: performing well at any and every task
imaginable. Instead of the ever-increasing achievements of weight or
distance, this standard shows a pragmatic turn. Does your level of fitness
allow you to perform what you need to perform, in any given setting? This kind
of standard is particularly appropriate for firemen (women), policemen (women),
and any who face physical challenges in their profession/job. Crossfit is
particularly aimed—or at least well-suited—to these populations, as a matter of
fact.
The third fitness standard governs (and assesses) performance
in all three pathways of energy for human action—phosphagen pathway, glycolytic
pathway and the oxidative pathway.
The first dominates the highest-powered activities, those that last 10 seconds
or less; the second (glycolytic) dominates moderate-powered activities, those
that last up to several minutes; and
the third (oxidative) dominates
low-powered activities, those that last in excess of several minutes. The task
is to develop and attend to all three pathways of energy for human action. Just
learning about them, I can already confess that I’m really comfortable with the
third, oxidative, pathway, as seen by my love of long-distance running. I’m
less comfortable with—but can tolerate—those things that last less than 10
seconds. It’s that middle ground, the glycolytic pathway, that brings fear for
me. Why? I have no idea.
Another schema in which Crossfit defines fitness lies in a
continuum between Sickness, Wellness, and Fitness. In this frame, “fitness is
and should be ‘super-wellness.’” I find this schema quite useful, particularly
as our rather polemical culture can create “fitness junkies” whose obsession
with their bodies, physical fitness, and presentation of form offers little to
them (or others) in terms of health or wellness. Particularly for women, the
media-saturated ideal of “feminine fitness” poses images and behaviors
decidedly sick: anorexic, boyish-boney, even starved softness with shadowed
make-up. In the CrossFit world, wellness integrates medical science without
being enslaved by it. Wellness is based on measurements of blood pressure, body
fat, bone density, triglycerides, good/bad cholesterol, flexibility, muscle
mass, etc. Sickness can address
everything from excessive bodyfat to low bone density to mental illness
(depression, etc.), with actions to be taken toward wellness before
“super-wellness” or “fitness.” Fitness simply becomes wellness magnified,
deepened, intensified.
Implementation of this “definition” of fitness attends to
metabolic conditioning or “cardio” work, interval training, gymnastics,
weightlifting, throwing, nutrition, and sport.
The hierarchy begins with nutrition, however, only ending with sport, or
“a fantastic atmosphere of competition and mastery.”
When I return to the notions of ‘fitness’ that usually float
like pixies in my head,
- wearing size 10 or smaller clothing
- having slim to no hips, thin thighs, absolutely flat stomach
- running a marathon or being a tri-athlete
- never eating sweets, pizza, or fatty foods
I smile with relief at the Crossfit mission and wisdom, even
if it feels a bit like Everest from where most in the American scene live. A
notion of fitness rooted in pragmatic performance, particularly one connected
to one’s life/profession, how one needs to spend time in any given day, is
quite satisfying. Honorable, somehow. I’m beginning to pay attention to how my
profession naturally predisposes me to certain kinds of body experiences, which
continue to be necessary, for now, but can become a choice too.
Mostly, this intensely articulate definition and
implementation of fitness frees me from some of the overculture’s obsessions
I’ve been internalizing for a long time. Size of clothing matters little. Wearing
slightly baggier jeans has loosened and strengthened awareness in my belly, my
womb, which I have needed for a long while. Having hip strength, even a
repository of abdominal fat that stores energy for core-strength use, is a good thing for performing many tasks I
might previously have thought impossible. Running long distances offers one kind
of performance, but fitness can express itself in multiple ways. This makes the
path to fitness so much more interesting and exploratory, which is marvelous
too. For good or ill, I’ve also gotten a little less self-incriminating about
food. I’ve noted my weight is up since I’ve focused on strength-training and
development of upper-body musculature. I
also know, for a season, that the weight-gain may actually be necessary for
what I’m trying to learn, to do. For once, my weight is a pragmatic portion of a larger picture about what
my goals are, what I might want to explore, to learn. It does not define or
condemn, but instead, contributes its part alongside other factors.
Come to think of it, I feel a bit more like a sculptor of
form and less an impotent lump of clay shaped only by my impulses or outer
culture. Not only does it feel good to have some agency in this morass we call
feminine fitness, it’s incredibly empowering to name a goal (even if it still
feels impossible to me!) and find relationships and a fitness community in
which such things are mountains needing to be climbed, desiring to be
climbed,…and simply a matter of time, training, and tenacity.
“Fitness is being able to do what the body can do, when it
needs to, for things we imagine, for the age we are and the needs of our lives
at the moment.” For now, I want to companion my body, with other wisdom-folks, into this exploration of
upper-body strength, without an obsession or all-costs force-of-will, but with
an impish smile and intention to be free—to act, to play, to grow.
