Why leg raises can kiss my pelvicly tilted ass.

Posted on by Cathy Vandewater
Fuck. This. Shit.

I just left Angela an extremely long comment (sorry Angela!) and realized I have a LOT to say about leg raises.

As you all know from my bitching and moaning on here, I’m still recovering from a mystery back issue. It got so bad that I ACTUALLY TRIED YOGA.  I still don’t know exactly what went wrong because my insurance at the time was really shitty, and when I called them to find a doctor who would accept my extremely obscure plan. They told me I had to go to the emergency room.

So I self diagnosed. (And called in sick a lot when I couldn’t stand).

I know it’s bad, but, I did my own research, and my symptoms were most in line with a herniated disk. The pain here is unique in that it’s much, much worse to be sitting that to be doing just about anything else (except maybe like, weighted dead lifts).

Gentle movement, walking, and standing all felt okay, but trying to sit at my desk for a normal work day was complete torture. On my 1.5 hour commute home I’d have to stand or risk not being able to get up from my seat when my stop came on the subway because my legs had gone numb.

This has something to do with the position your lower discs are in when you sit–they’re much more compressed than when standing. And let me tell you… I could feel it. It was like on Seinfeld when George was sitting on his huge wallet–it just felt precarious and unbalanced and generally fucked up everywhere, no matter how I shifted around in my chair. And I think, as a protective response, the muscles all around my spine tightened and spasmed and did all other kinds of general fuckery to make my life even more particularly miserable.

The red part is medical code for “this area hurts like a bitch.”

Now, I have taken a good, hard look at my life. I was in constant pain for about 6 months. My back was always seized up, I had (mistakenly!) thought I lost all my hard won flexibility because I couldn’t so much as touch my toes anymore. Inverts in pole were completely out of the question (just trying to crunch my legs up was an immediately spasm in my back), and even gentle workout classes became embarrassing and impossible as soon as something as runk twists, toe touches, or planks were involved.

I thought it would last forever, and I thought dancing was done for me.

And I wanted to know why.

Funny enough, it wasn’t until I made an almost complete recovery (gentle stretching and cardio + listening to your body FTW!) before I made the connection between a certain movement and my pain.

Leg raises.

I have an idea. Let’s not and say we did.

Fucking leg raises.

It came it be in a flash: a month or so before my pain had first started (at first in waves of back cramps that would come and go, and then in a tsunami of pain that quite literally took me off my feet), I’d started a new class at my gym.

It was called “Ab Lab.”

Great cross training for pole, right? It’s at 12pm in the gym attached to my office, and it’s only a half hour long. A quick ass kicking AND time to eat a sandwich? Sign me up.

The workout–while intense–is very old fashioned. It’s also very fast paced. And the instructor–a totally lovely guy–takes no prisoners. He will call you out. That’s my kryptonite because I have an ego when it comes to working out. So I ignored how certain things felt in order to simply complete them. Like how series after series of extended leg raises, criss-crosses, scissors, and roll ups were making my back ache and burn, not my abs.

Dat curve.
Dat curve.

Now, I’m not dumb. I have been working out and dancing for a long time. I know that to protect my back in ab exercises, I have to pull my abs in and keep my lower back glued to the floor.

Unfortunately, that’s impossible when you’re working on a double time count and flinging a medicine ball around. In fact, it didn’t even work for me at half speed. (A pilates teacher last night walked up to me and grabbed my back and was like, “wow, look at that lumbar curve.” Apparently that can cause back pain during the ab stuff because anatomy?? So I was like HOLY FUCKING SHIT, MAYBE IT’S MY BODY AND NOT MY TECHNIQUE. Because it can’t possibly be for lack of trying. I really, really try to keep my back on the floor.)

Anyway, I don’t take the ab class anymore. And I don’t give a flying fuck what kind of side eye I get during other fitness classes I take when I sit out on the leg raises.

I do not do leg raises anymore.

I just fucking do not.

Some things I can do (like lower leg scissors) if I keep my hands under my back, which helps me get into the C position where my abs do the work. But other times, if we’re doing those full body V things, I just don’t. And I apologize to the teacher or point to my back and shrug, but I DO NOT DO THEM and I don’t not let myself be bullied into doing them.

Just to reiterate:

pilates
No.

Do you have a an exercise that’s your mortal enemy?

Are leg raises amazing and I’m some kind of mutant that can’t do them?

Pls explain.

I hate teddies because I don’t like showing my stomach: keeping it real.

Posted on by Cathy Vandewater

I have stomach issues.

That means two things, both related to each other:

1. I have issues showing my stomach because I never know what the eff it’s going to look like, and I can’t seem to find any correlation between diet and exercise and whether or not it’s going to be flat our puffed out post-natal style. (sorry).

and 2. I have literal, physical stomach issues. I have been in denial of this for a long time, because the aforementioned diet, exercise, and a very low dose of prescription meds mostly keeps it under control. During other stressful times (NOW, like, totally right now), things go a little haywire and all kinds of pain and general puffiness ensue.

I’ve been doing all the things I normally do to get things under control: up the dosage on my meds. Drink tons of water and exercise even though I’m feeling some ouches. Eat lots of basic, varied foods. But, ya know, I’m still dealing. It’s a flare up. And despite a better-than-ever diet and 5-days a week gym routine, it’s giving me a Homer Simpson gut.

…Just in a time for a belly dance show on Sunday! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaay.

Anyway, I’m still trying to live my normal life like this isn’t happening to me, and I was in a pole class when we decided to do a Teddy.

First of all, I fucking hate Teddies. Because:

1. I think they’re ugly. I mean… you’re basically holding your thighs open like, LOOK AT MY CROTCH. LOOK AT IT. I mean…. 

2. I can’t do them. I get up there and the underside of my arms is like NOPE, and then I slide down with a loud, long screech.

3. They fucking hurt to fail at (I can’t say “they hurt to do” because I have never successfully done one. Fuck.)

Oh yeah, and last but not least, I hate Teddies because never fail, when we’re trying to do them, the instructor says “you really need to expose a little stomach to grip the pole.”

And then I pretend that I didn’t hear so I don’t have to lift my shirt, but everybody else does. And then when I inevitably fail at my next Teddy attempt, the instructor will say again, “It will REALLY help you to lift your shirt a little and get some skin.” She’ll avoid eye contact with me so as to pretend that she’s not directing her comment at me, the only person in the room with my torso fully covered, and I’ll pretend once again not to hear her. The dance continues.Image

Yes, I really hate showing my stomach that much.

Yes, I’m aware that I belly dance and that’s pretty ironic. (I almost always keep my stomach covered in belly classes too).

Anyway, I’m already anticipating horrible, bloated pictures from my show, so here’s a preemptive strike: a picture of how good my abs looked this past Saturday.

I have so few days where my hard work actually shows, so while I was Face Timing a friend while chopping vegetables and went to wipe my hands on my shirt, I saw my stomach and went WHOA, GOOD STOMACH DAY FOR ONCE and snapped a shot.

I know it sounds vain, but when I’m in classes this week in a normally-loose top that’s stuck to my pot belly like cling wrap, I need that picture.

It’s an emotional thing.

Do you guys have a body part that continually embarrasses you? Am I missing something about the Teddy? How in the hell does your armpit support your whole body??? Pls explain.

Achieving a “dancer’s” size: on costume-induced body panic

Posted on by Cathy Vandewater

You know that weird mix of excitement and dread?

Image
My first ever show! On campus at Pratt Institute in 2008. I was so terrified, I purposefully didn’t wear contacts so I couldn’t see the crowd.

It always reminds me of the feeling I used to get as a kid, when I couldn’t wait for my birthday, which happened to be a week before school started.

So, the big news is that my belly dance partner and crime K and I are debuting February 13th at Jebon on St. Marks place. I am so. Freaking. Excited. We’re been rehearsing really hard for a few months now with all original choreography, so now that we’ve done the work, it’s the fun part: costumes.

Hahahahaha fun? Bitch please. Try horrifying.

Let me first clarify that I like my body. It has served me very well in my time. That said, I am (ew barf I can’t believe I have to use this word) “womanly.” I have visible abs, but I’m also a little soft in places. This seems to me to be perfectly natural since, duh, i’m a woman. I eat healthy and I got plenty of exercise (in the studio, the gym, and carrying groceries up to my 4th floor walk up).

My body does what I ask of it on the pole, on the floor, and every place in between, so I’m thoroughly happy with it and the worrying ends there.

That is, until I put on the belly dance costume.

(NOTE:: ****I should clarify that the top half of this costume i’s not so much a costume as it is a balconet bra I bought at H&M. I have ginormous boobs, and “real” belly dance bras only come in small, medium, and large. I’m quite small (32″ band) AND large (D-DD), so, my options are limited.)

Me and K now, after a show

So anyway, here I am in the studio, under florescent lighting, in a freaking BRA, undulating my way down into a crouching position from THE SIDE. SO YOU CAN SEE ALL THE FAT ROLLS. AHHHHHH. And I’m panicking. Is 2 weeks enough time to lose 5 pounds? Can self tanner somehow magically help?

The really f***ed up thing is I’m in the greatest shape of my life right now. I LOVE how I look in clothes (thanks, pole!). But I feel like the standards for a body being displayed during a dance performance are totally different.

Like the hardcore-ness of your body is directly related to your amount of skill and self discipline in dancing.

Like no matter how hard I work nailing difficult moves, a soft middle screams “wannabe” anyway.

It’s very discouraging. And it doesn’t help that K is TINY. She’s both petite and about 90 pounds, so not only do I look a little on the flabby side next to her but I look like a freaking giant too. This is bad, guys. Please help me. I have two weeks.

Here’s my plan so far:

1. Focus on healthy fats and protein

I can’t starve myself right now, mostly because I really do need a lot of food for my lifestyle. I’m talking back to back pole classes and THEN a workout at the gym. None of these places are convenient locations for fainting. Also, fuck starving yourself. No.

BUT. If anything dials down on belly pudge, it’s skipping bread and sugar, right? Can’t hurt anyway.

2. Take care of my skin

I feel extra repulsive when all that extra flesh is also dry and icky looking. Now until February 13th is officially Exfoliation and Lotion Time. And performance night is going to require a shit ton of freaking shimmer, I don’t give a fuck. Yes.

3. Fluids?

This one I’m a tad sketchy on. A trainer friend of mine who also happens to be a show wrestler (hulk hogan type as opposed to skinny guys in jumpsuits, on mats) swears by this: chug tons of water in the weeks leading up to the event (to flush out bloat), then scale way back on fluids the day before and day of the event. I think I remember reading that Adriana Lima does this before Victoria’s Secret shows. I also remember thinking that it was batshit crazy.

Honestly I probably won’t do this one, except for the “drinking tons of fluids” part. That part seems good.

4. Self tanner

Yeah, actually, maybe not. Flabby and orange isn’t really an improvement on flabby and pale. Strike this one.

5. Beg K to let me change the angles on certain things

Crouching from the side… eesh. Or maybe we can incorporate some veil work here? Specifically holding up a veil to cover ourselves as we crouch from the side?

Here’s a funny story: one time, a woman came into my spins class and said she’d been wanting to take my class for months. I asked her why she waited so long. She said she thought she needed to lose 10 pounds before she could take a class like pole. (She was very, very slightly overweight by the way, this was not a safety issue).

Wait, did I say funny story? I meant a sad story, about a woman who didn’t think she was good enough at her current weight to take a damn EXERCISE CLASS.

WTF society, look what you’re doing. Stahp.

Anyway, how do you guys feel about the weight issue with pole? It’s hard to see all the top people in our sport looking soooooo tiny in their equally small costumes, and feel like we still have permission to even try.

Does fear about your body hold you back from performing? From wearing certain clothes to class?

Have you ever tried to lose weight for a show? (if so TELL ME ALL OF YOUR SECRETS)

Pole Pleaser, Pole Spins, and Intro to Pole tonight! 7,8, and 9pm, respectively. Hope to see you!

And here’s your official invitation to the belly dance show! Yes, they spelled my name wrong. Come for the frozen sake, stay for (possibly orange), nervous-looking belly dancer 😉

Happy Twirls!

Cathy

Getting MAD FIT in 8 super weird places

Posted on by Cathy Vandewater

ImageAh, more reasons to love pole. So. Freaking. Much.

I know a lot of people dance to mix up their work out routines (great idea, by the way!), but fitness has always been just a nice plus of pole for me.

I mean… I’m the type that gets really frustrated when my muscles start giving out because dang, I wanted to practice that one thing one more time!

But the weird thing is, it’s always super random muscles that get tired from pole. Last night I had to give laybacks a rest not because my legs were giving out, but because my big toe was cramping.

Seriously?

Seriously big toe? You’re going to play me like that?

As our instructors like to say though, you can’t ignore even the little muscle issues because a toe cramp can definitely screw with your leg muscles, which can in turn screw with your grip.

Which can then screw with your head. Because you landed on it. OH SNAP.

But seriously, cramps aside, here are weird muscle groups I’ve noticed I’m accidentally keeping in top condition:

1. Inner thighs

Okay this is actually pretty awesome. I remember being in middle school and finding out what “thunder thighs” meant for the first time, staring at my legs for a bit, then frantically doing leg lifts out of my mom’s Jane Fonda book.

Eventually though, I realized “spot reducing” is kinda BS, and resigned myself to a little inner thigh chub. NBD, right?

NOT UNTIL YOU HAVE AMAZING INNER THIGHS. Holy crap, trying not to die while hanging upside down from your thighs is like, the best training ever, apparently, because my inner thighs are looking boss. I mean, I guess I’ll take it?

2. Deltoids

This kinda pisses me off, because I assumed that pole dance would trick out my arms. Nope, just the shoulders.

In fact, the contrast between my super tight delts and loose, ever-so-floppy triceps just makes the whole arm situation look worse. Damn you, fiercely toned delts. Damn you to hell.

3. Calves

Can’t pretend to be angry about this. “Imaginary high heels” at all times (ie. standing on your toes) makes for some awesome, accidentally toned calves that look baller in real heels.

Downside: the shame of running in shoes with lifts in the back. The guy at the shoe store was horrified by by my apparent muscle imbalances, so that’s what I ended up with.*Shame*.

4. Forearms, wrists, and hands

This is kind of a do or die situation, really. After I weaned myself off Dry Hands (grip aid’s a hell of a drug!), my wrists and hands had to get stronger… because I couldn’t really spare any more skin rubbing off, and they must have known that.

I mean, I guess my forearms never really looked fat or anything, but I can the difference. I find myself giving very intimidating handshakes. Though that could also be the cray cray callouses I have, that are scary people. Whoops.

5. Obliques

ROCK ON, I love my new side abs! Kinda wish the rest of the abs would catch up, but I’ll take what I can get. I think it’s all the leg swinging, twisting, and wrapping, but I can actually see individual, Bat-man ablets happening along my rib cage. That’s DEFINITELY a pole perk.

6. Upper back

Holy god is all I can say about this. In addition to posture improvement, my upper back is mighty fine in the muscle department. I think it’s safe to say that this is where the majority of effort is coming from in pole, not arms (at least with spins).

7. Feet and ankles

Weird, right? But all the push offs, the climbing, the ankle hook make their mark. I’m hoping this helps with running, since the top of my feet tend to get tired. Is there a word for that muscle? Moving on.

8. Biceps

Okay this is not a weird muscle. But yes, climbing and inverting will tone the shit out of it.

Any weird places you’ve noticed firming up with pole?

How about muscles you WISH would get stronger, to help with dance?

I work with a lot of personal trainers at my day job so I’m thinking of asking them for help with a strength building routine. If they give me a baller work-out, I’ll be sure to share!

Happy twirls!

Cathy