Don't Run Away: The Tough Get Tougher

Why to stick around when it gets hard, and how to do it.

The other day my physical trainer was running slightly late, so I got started without her.

(I’m a masochist that way, you might say.)

I’m 20 seconds into my third round of 45-second planks, and she waltzes in like “Oh my goodness, I’m SO glad you got a head start for me – oh you wouldn’t believe the traffic out there just now! How are you doing?”

22…23…24…shaking all over…25…26…27……..28……..oh my god…

“Ten more seconds! You’re doing great!”

“Aaaaand…we’re down!”

I fall to the mat with the grace of a broken piano, amazed I’ve survived another round of planks without actually dying (though every time I feel like I am).

Photo by bruce mars on Unsplash

Planks don’t seem to get easier, even though I’m doing 3 rounds of them 3 times a week. And I’m beginning to think: maybe there’s something to that.

The plank is accomplished by assuming the position like you’re about to start push-ups. Laying face down on a mat, push your whole body up. Hands under your shoulders, arms fully extended. Toes tucked under your feet.

Your body, from your heels to the top of your head, should be in a straight line (like, well, a plank of wood). One of the Sankrit names for this yoga position is phalakasana (“plank pose”, I kid you not).

My trainer has me do a modified form of this pose, which is simply holding the pose from my elbows, on my forearms instead of my hands. Trust me, it really isn’t any easier.

If this were a yoga class, she would tell me to concentrate on my breathing when it gets challenging.

Lately my favorite way through the plank is to sing the ABC song in my head, as long as my trainer is  handling the counting. This distracts me from how much time I have left on the timer and keeps me from counting faster.

You pop into plank pose, and you hold.

“A…B…C...D…”

And hold.

“E…F…G…”

And hold.

“M…N…oh…my…god…!...”

And hold.

You feel your body start to shake under the strain, and you hold. You’re reminded to continue breathing through this, so you take a breath. But then you feel your hips start to sink in the breath, so you regain proper form…and you hold…

You stay here until you die.

In my case, I stay here until my trainer releases me. I’m not convinced she’s always using the same timer, because sometimes that forty-five seconds really feels like ten minutes. But that’s okay.

I’ve never dropped a plank.

I’ve gotten to the point where the plank doesn’t hurt, but the recruited muscles can still shake a lot. And because of that shaking, they reach exhaustion. But they lean on supportive structures that are strengthening to the point that quitting is not as easy for them to do.

It’s definitely a great way to warm up quickly when my office gets too chilly.

This is your brain...on limits.

When you start holding the plank long enough, you run out of mental cheats to get you through it. The alphabet trick works (until you run out of letters) because it gets your mind off the counting, which just makes it painfully obvious that you’re nowhere near done holding yet.

But holding this pose, or any other isometric position, affords us an amazing opportunity. One that we don’t come by often: the chance to examine our relationship to discomfort.

As humans, we’re amazing at taking the most minor inconveniences and developing workarounds for them.

Hungry? Grab a snack. No need to prep a full meal or wait until it’s mealtime – just nab that hunger with a quick cheat.

Don’t feel like the stairs? Grab the elevator. Until your wings grow in, no need to wear your legs out and get sweaty – just let the elevator handle this.

Developed society affords us a lot of great technologies and tools. But we get dependent on them.

We hardly ever face that hunger and say, “I can wait an hour until lunch, I’ll just drink a bottle of water for now.” When the prospect of physical labor rises, we get machines to handle it for us.

We never run into discomfort gladly, and if we do, people look at us like we’re nuts.

So when unavoidably life hands us hard times that there are no work-arounds for, we get stuck.

When you get a headache and there’s no magic pill for it readily on hand. When you lose your job, and there’s no job waiting to catch you. When a loved one dies, you can never get them back.

We suffer so much because we never spend time learning about our pain, how it moves through us, whether we can find meaning in it.

We don’t willfully sit in discomfort long enough to realize that we won’t die of it, long enough to get stronger in it.

In fitness, we get the concept that if a muscle gets tired and feels achey the next day, we’ve earned physical strength. What if we allow it to enhance our mental resilience, maybe even build a positive relationship with our bodies, just by staying present while it shakes and aches?

This is one of the functions of asana yoga (the yoga of poses, or most yoga classes you’ll attend at a gym). Working the body, but mostly breathing into it, bringing awareness to yourself as a physical being. Exploring the fantastic technology of the human body, and how we sit in it.

Break the distraction

Next time you go to exercise, consider the following:

1.      How does your breath feel? Is it sometimes shaky and labored? Are you able to calm your breathing by drawing attention to it?

2.      Slug some water. Can you feel it wash down into your body, sending much needed hydration into your blood, bones, muscles and skin?

3.      When you hold a challenging position long enough (a plank, for example), pay attention to where exactly you’re feeling the discomfort. What exactly does it feel like – is it pain, or is it fatigue? A burn? A shake?

4.      Now release that position and relax. Do you feel your circulation shift as your muscles relax? Your breathing return to normal? What sensations do you experience?

5.      Now the fun part: watch where your mind goes during all of this. Do you find yourself concentrating on your body as it contracts and relaxes? Or are you watching the clock, reciting your alphabet, half-heartedly counting your reps just to get through a workout?

6.      What happens with your emotions as you exercise? Emotions during a workout can run all over the place – anywhere from self-doubt while aiming for a higher weight load or higher number of reps, to the crazy endorphin rush that hits during the best cardio sessions.

You may think to yourself, “Exercise is awful! None of this feels good, if I focus on the pain I’ll never push myself hard enough to get any results. What would I have to gain from focusing on my body while it’s screaming?”

Several benefits of staying with your body during exercise are:

1.      As discussed, better mental resilience. If you practice staying with pressure or discomfort as it arises during exercise, your mind is better able to cope with these sensations when they show up in daily life.

2.      Better mental focus and willpower. Deciding on a physical goal means committing to what it takes to get there – the nutrition, the exercise, all of it. And committing to a challenging movement (or position, such as the plank) means showing up for yourself and your goals, no matter what. When your muscles fatigue, when your body shakes, you persevere. You focus on your goals, and you stick with it. Especially when it gets hard.

3.      Emotional regulation. Similar to the above, as you practice mindfulness of thoughts and feelings during a workout, you’ll get better at facing and welcoming them when you’re not in a gym or on a mat.

4.      Increased pain tolerance. When we’re uncomfortable, we get better at being uncomfortable. We stand more steadily under its weight. And the body and mind learn to cope better.

5.      Increased mind-muscle connection. This is a whole topic in itself, but in short, concentrating on a muscle group while working it actually creates a safer, more efficient and more motivating workout. (Next time you do bicep curls, look at your actual biceps while you’re doing them. You might even take your other hand and touch them while they work. You’ll actually recruit more muscle and pull it with safer form than if you were just looking in a mirror.)

6.      Better bodily awareness. You never know how your core muscles are deeply tied into your everyday movements until you work them enough that they’re sore the next day. And then they’re activated all over the place, because we access them in so much of our movement. You also…feel…your body more. Your breath as you inhale…and exhale. Your muscles as they contract…and stretch. Not just doing exercise but in day-to-day awareness.

7.      The aftermath. You probably didn’t feel like working today, but you pushed through it, and you showed up for yourself. Whether it was yoga or reps on a machine - you worked hard for something, so the rewards are all yours. You earned this, you have a right to celebrate yourself.

Photo by Jon Flobrant on Unsplash

In and Through the Body

When I sit in that plank, I have my good days and bad days.

On bad days, I’m shaking and sweating during the first plank (of 3 sets of them). I don’t feel strong, and I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this one, let alone the other 2 I have to do. I’m staring at the clock the whole time. The endorphins are hard-won.

I’m questioning my life goals on these days.

Nothing to do here but stay in place, and watch with curiosity.

As your body screams, your brain begs...what happens to your mind?

Train hard, and learn about yourself.

On the good days, I hit 45 seconds on the 3^rd round and I think “Huh, that was fast. This is going to be a great day!” I’m running to get the weights for my next exercise.

But I also have to dig deeper, work harder to feel like I’ve pushed myself adequately. Endorphins as pain-killers exist for a good reason. But they can make it harder to find our foundation in our bodies, so we know where we’re working from.

Up and down, during the day, and in between days. Like the sun, like our breath, like our lives even.

And I’ve allowed this to be part of an ongoing conversation with myself.

In the movie Fight Club, there’s a triggering but energizing conversation between the two (one?) main characters. The alter ego Tyler Durden holds Jack’s hand down and dumps a fistful of lye on it.

While Jack can’t physically get away from his pain, his mind goes to several different places in an attempt to dissociate from it.

In held positions like the plank, I allow for that conversation. Where I see myself drilling my alphabet in my head, but my other “self” reminds me to breathe, to correct my form. To be there with my body, even as it struggles.

Because I may get 3 shots at getting that plank done right every time I hit the mat…

But we only get one shot at this life, and one body to carry us through it.

Don’t check out on it.