Sports and Pilates

by Tom Floyd

For most of my life, I have been obsessed with fitness-related activities. Though my physical abilities were modest (at least compared to my aspirations), I had enormous drive. Like many, I was influenced by two adages of the 1960s: "No pain, no gain" and "You can if you think you can." By putting those phrases together, I built Quixotic dreams that led to both disappointments and injuries. These, then, are the highlights of my athletic and fitness endeavors (with Pilates coming to the rescue before it was too late):

Running

Mesmerized by Frank Shorter's 1972 Olympic marathon win (I was 17 at the time), I spent some 20 years on an on-again, off-again pursuit of gold in the sport. Though always desiring to run, my training was less than consistent due to my over-zealousness. My idea of a training run was as simple as it was naïve: to cover the distance as fast as possible, whether it be four miles or twelve. I would torture myself, not out of love for running, but out of the quest for the elusive prize.

Though aware of Bill Bowerman's adage that in every case he would rather under-train an athlete than over-train him, I felt it did not apply to me. Sure, his protégé Steve Prefontaine could benefit from that advice, but he was already a world-class athlete. I simply thought I could make up for modest ability by working harder than anyone else. Consequently, I was either hurt, sick, or simply burned out more often than I could train.

Bodybuilding

Whippet-thin from years of running, I then turned to the "Iron Sport" for my next adventure in athletics. Throwing myself in the literature of the sport, I read the training principles of Joe Weider, and the success stories of his many proteges, most notably Arnold Schwarzenegger. The number one training principle to emerge from my study was to train "to and, even beyond, muscular failure." This was the common denominator of all the great champions in the sport. However else they trained, they trained to sheer, utter muscular failure. I must train the same way, or so I thought.

My body responded reasonably well to such an approach, at first at least. My shirt size went from medium to large in just a few months. I derived enormous satisfaction from seeing the poundage I could lift increase, and in some cases, triple. I looked good, got plenty of compliments, but even within the first year the effects began to take their toll.

Little aches and pains went from easy-to-ignore to full-blown injury. Two or three years into this training regimen found me in such great pain that I could barely dress myself because of rotator cuff impingement. Lower back pain kept me awake at night; in fact, I dreaded going to bed.

Physical therapy restored me to relatively normal functioning, but I knew I had to find another way to develop my body. Since both running and bodybuilding had exacerbated the tightness I've always had, I was now ready to focus on attaining flexibility.

Yoga

The same intensity I applied to running and bodybuilding I brought to Yoga. Impatient in allowing my body to adapt at its own rate, I would force myself into poses - pulling, pushing, and otherwise contorting myself into postures beyond my ability. I was constantly sore, but since I experienced modest gains, I continued to push.

And I even had good Yoga teachers. They constantly reminded me to "relax," "soften," and otherwise get the tension out of my body, but I couldn't do it. I muscled myself through the exercises, focusing only on how far I could stretch, with little regard to form or relaxation. Even though I intellectually knew the axiom "no pain, no gain" was wrong, I could not emotionally or experientially accept the fact. If I could hurt a bit more, maybe I'll be able to do the splits...

My yoga practice came to a sudden stop one day when, with right foot planted near my groin and arms reaching toward the left out-stretched foot, I went way beyond the pain barrier. With a loud pop emanating from my right knee, along with excruciating pain, I knew I had pushed too hard. A trip to an orthopedist confirmed that I had torn cartilage. A cortisone shot got me walking, but once again, I knew I had to make some changes in my training.

Pilates

My first glimpse of Pilates was with the December 1994 issue of Yoga Journal, which showcased the method. At the time, I was fascinated more with the unique machines than in the explanation of the method of exercise. Just one look at the Cadillac convinced me that if I could just train on that machine, I would develop the flexibility I desired...

Nearly five years elapsed before I finally had the chance to train on a Cadillac. It did not provide the instant magic I thought it would, but I did make a commitment to learn the method of exercise.

As my training progressed under the direction of certfied Pilates trainers, I began to experience a "paradigm shift" in my understanding and practice of exercise. Rather than viewing exercise as an all-or-nothing venture into the extreme, I learned that avoiding strain, while emphasising proper form, produced far greater results. Over time, I began to "float" into movements that I formerly would have had to "muscle" myself into.

After my first three years of Pilates practice, I re-discovered Yoga and, along with the greater body awareness I learned through Pilates, I have experienced new physical breakthroughs, especially in pelvic flexibility. Applying the same principles of moderation and correct technique to both Pilates and Yoga, I am experiencing changes that are both dramatic and unexpected. These changes include a significant reduction in the pain that has always been with me since my running and bodybuilding days, and an enthusiasm for the exercise itself, rather than merely the gains I get from it. Pilates just feels good. No pain, but plenty of gain.