Since the beginning of November I’ve started taking TRX fitness classes twice a week. Suspension trainers hang from the ceiling and everyone is challenged to do exercises that require balance and an enormous amount of core strength. I was pretty uncoordinated during my first class – struggling to keep up with the pace as I fumbled with adjusting the length of the trainers – but that changed pretty quickly.
In just four weeks I could feel myself getting stronger and more confident with the exercises. I started pushing myself far, really far, past a level of discomfort that would have made me quit in the past. In the book The Rise of Superman (I wrote a review about this book last week), Steven Kotler shared this about what a second wind really means:
“Fatigue gets worse up to a certain critical point, when gradually or suddenly it passes away, and we are fresher than before. We have evidently tapped a level of new energy, masked until then by the fatigue-obstacle usually obeyed.
There may be layer after layer of this experience. A third and a fourth “wind” may supervene. Mental activity shows the phenomenon as well as physical, and in exceptional cases we may find, beyond the very extremity of fatigue-distress, amounts of ease and power that we never dreamed ourselves to own; sources of strength habitually not taxed at all, because habitually we never pushed through the obstruction, never past those early critical points.”
This has stayed with me. During every workout I think about this quote. How far can I actually push myself? I search for that obstruction and I try my best to push through it.
What Happened
Last week there was an odd number of people in the class. At the end of class, our instructor always gets us to do a challenge. How many of this exercise can you do in an allotted amount of time. It’s meant to be a competition against yourself. With both feet in the suspension trainers and hands on the floor in a plank, we had to bring both knees to the right side of our body and then back to plank. Repeat on the left. How many could you do in one minute?
Everyone had a partner except for me, so our instructor volunteered to be mine. I went first.
I have a lot of core strength. Pushups and planks are some of my favourite exercises. For me, it’s a mental game, and mentally I’m pretty strong. I did 48 reps in one minute (one side counted as one rep). I felt awesome.
He gave me a high-five. “Okay, switch partners,” he said. It was his turn. He put both feet in the suspension trainers and he started pumping them out. I counted. He did 46. He quickly walked away to the back of the class giving everyone a quick 45 second break before stretching. One of the girls at the back of the class asked him how many he’d done. He asked me. 46 I said, and turned around. I don’t know why I hoped he’d acknowledge my rep count, but he didn’t.
If he’d gone first, would I still have done more than him? A small part of me wonders if I’d have feigned exhaustion near the end to avoid getting a larger number than he did, but why should it be so embarrassing to have been beat by a girl; a woman? Would he have reacted the same way if a guy had beat him by two reps? I don’t think so. I felt like I’d emasculated him.
The Problem As I See It
A couple of weeks ago, I listened to a podcast interview with fitness trainer Chalene Johnson. Okay, she’s more than just a fitness trainer, she basically has a fitness empire with Beachbody (the company that created P90X).
Her husband works with her, growing a company that bears her name. One of the interview questions: How do you help your husband to not feel emasculated? My blood started to boil. That never would have been a question in the reverse. A woman married to a man with that kind of power, and she’s either incredibly lucky or a gold digger. A man marries a woman with that sort of power, and suddenly it’s her responsibility to make sure he still feels like a man.
Anyone else feel like there’s something that needs to shift?
I feel like I can’t be strong in a relationship without feeling guilty that I’m taking something away from my partner. I just think it’s incredibly disheartening that this should be a legitimate obstacle for women — something we’re actually expected to consider as we build our careers and our lives.
How do I deal with it? Find a partner who is equally powerful, said my friend. Someone who doesn’t feel the need to over power you, but is comfortable being powerful with you. Ah, I said. That answer felt good to me.
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