I started exercising when I was 14. I subscribed to Shape magazine, did their exercises at home, took aerobics classes, and as soon as I could drive, spent every week at the gym or kickboxing studio. In college, I majored in Sports Medicine, regularly taught Tae Bo and Kickboxing classes, and sometimes spent as much as 6 days/week in the weight room for up to two hours at a time.

First photo is from my early 20s, when I spent 6 days/week for 1-2 hours in the gym. Second photo is from my late 30s after 3 kids when all I did was Pilates and regular movement like walking and biking for transportation.

My love affair with the gym continued into my early 30s, when increasing hip and SI joint pain eventually forced me to accept that high impact exercise was hurting me more than helping me. Desperate to keep moving somehow, I tried barre, yoga, Pilates. Pilates proved to be the most rehabilitative and mentally stimulating with the greatest results. I trained to become a Pilates teacher and replaced all former indoor exercise with Pilates. I was still active outdoors, but my gym days were over.

Five years later, another shift occurred. Slowly I had realized that Pilates wasn't exercise. I wasn't using it the way I had used exercise before--to change the shape of my body (although it had), to burn calories, to feel healthy. Pilates was doing something for my mind and spirit that was effectively becoming critical to my existence, my mental peace, my spirit. The movement and attention to every joint in my body, to every breath I took, to every tissue I compressed, stretched, and twisted, was becoming part of what I needed daily to get through the challenges of my life. Movement was like an essential amino acid--I always had to get some.

And then I realized it. I don't exercise anymore. I don't tell my family that I'm going to go workout. I tell them, "I'm going to move." The mental shift was subtle but profound. I didn't feel like I had to get in my quota of exercise for the day. I felt the craving of my body to move and I listened to it. It didn't have to be fast or hard or burn. I just followed what my body wanted—some days that was simple prone head lifts while others I craved back bends.

This isn’t a “Pilates exercise” but my body craved it.

I have a newfound respect for the body and what it can do. Now that I just move daily, multiple times a day, following the joints that are quietly asking for attention, I can't believe the results. My body is awakened and ever changing, my spine is straighter and more flexible than at any time in my life I can recall, my posture is more upright without conscious thought, I feel strong and capable, my mind is patient and at peace, my spirit satisfied. When challenges--physical, emotional, social--present themselves, I feel resilient. I know I have my movement practice to center me and I feel equipped to handle what life throws at me.

I now leave pieces of Pilates equipment around my house. A small barrel rests in the center of my living room floor, a magic circle sits on a barstool in my kitchen, a foam roller is propped next to the TV. And when I pass them, they invite me to use them. I often do, resulting in a day filled with little bits of extra movement sprinkled throughout my waking hours. I'm no longer exercising, but I'm moving more than I ever have in my life. And I feel healthier and fitter than ever.

“I’ve been cheating this whole time!” She was shoulder bridging and finding how her hamstring could do the work when she realized is was unlike any shoulder bridge she’d done before. And immediately, she thought she had cheated with her former versions. This is not the first time a client has said this.

This is my first swan on my first day of teacher training at The Pilates Center in 2015. That was the most extension I could get, but it was the best I could do at the time.

I need to clarify that in movement, there really is no cheating. You’re doing the best you can with the ability and knowledge you have.

Your nervous system is only capable of working within the boundaries you’ve set—the strength you have, the movements you’ve explored, the motor programs you’ve rehearsed. Then the brain brilliantly decides to use what is strong, mobile, and familiar. Thank goodness for that! In this way, movement is automated, freeing up the conscious mind so that it can focus on higher order tasks. You don’t have to think about how to get from point A to point B, but rather can think about more complex problems like what you’ll do when you get to point B.

However, in our society, we’re increasingly disconnected from our bodies. The focus is so intensely on our minds (hello standardized curriculum, so long PE!) while the tools available enable the mind to work by sacrificing the body (as I’m doing sitting here to write this post). We work the body less and less so the boundaries on our movement are increasingly narrow, even causing our bodies to signal distress via pain. Clearly our systems need re-education, and Pilates is just the tool for that.

Our job as Pilates teachers is to help bring awareness to your existing patterns and then expand your movement boundaries, teach you new possibilities, and help you reinforce new patterns. Along the way, we should use the method to also teach you self love, acceptance, and then exploration of new ways of moving and using your body. Your nervous system is doing the best it can with the resources it has. Only once you know better and practice it can you do better. But not knowing is not cheating.