Joy In Movement

When I first started teaching in Stockton, one the happiest parts of my day was a quiet moment during my prep time, when the kindergarten classes had their recess time. The window next to my desk overlooked their playground, and the noise never bothered me--I was delighted by the yelling and by watching these feisty little people running and jumping and being kids. Watch a child play outside sometime--there is a total joy in them, in their body as it moves. Kids run, jump, bounce, roll, slide, climb and just move with total abandon. There is no self-consciousness, and no fear.

When I talk to other adults about my fitness journey, I often lament that children have this total joy in movement for such a short time--what happens to us? What makes us suddenly afraid of injury or being laughed at? I suppose puberty is part of it, and certainly our society has become one of convenience. Why get out of the car? Drive through! Why take the stairs? There's an elevator! Run? Are you joking?

I was thinking about this today while out for a short walk (a short walk, for me, is one mile). I would have run today, but my calves are hurting and 60 or so Bosu squats didn't exactly make them less so. I was rehashing my swimming session at the gym this morning, in which I switched from my dainty head-above-water breast stroke with a cute little frog kick for some all-out freestyle swimming. I was thinking of all the improvements I need to make--learn to breathe better, make sure my arms and legs have good form, work on feeling confident, and, also important, getting to a point where I don't have to stop, touch the wall, turn around and then swim back to the other end of the pool. I don't feel confident, quite yet, that I can pull off a quick underwater somersault without inhaling a lungful of water.

When, in my life, did I lose that joy in movement that I had as a child? I can remember spending 80% of every summer vacation in our pool as a child, perfecting my handstand, underwater somersault, jumping technique, diving, and other general dolphin-like moves. No fear, just lots of sunscreen (thank you, Mom!) and a ton of joy.

I think for most girls, it starts around puberty. Our bodies change, and suddenly we go from childish and gangly to curvy and with fat in places it's never been before. Society tells us fat is bad, and we panic and hide it in shame. I didn't have a lot of athletic experience outside of spending my summers in the pool, so I didn't feel any sort of urge to run or play sports. My music career was taking form, and that kept me busy. I hated PE class and took two summer school sessions worth of it so I wouldn't have to take it for a whole school year.

I feel so fortunate to have finally reached a point in my running where I no longer loathe it, but rather relish the fact that my body is moving. I like the sweat and the strain, the challenge. Sometimes I'll be having a great run and I'll suddenly realize there's a smile on my face. A happy grin that doesn't happen every day but happens often enough to let me know that I've rediscovered what my kindergartners knew already--there is so much joy to be found in simply moving your body. It's what your body does best!

I wish our society encouraged more of it.