The 110% Yogi
I’m competitive. There, now you know. Though I would like to say that I’m competitive mostly with myself, I do believe that would be a lie.
Growing up in a house of eight means that you have to make your needs heard or else be left behind (sometimes literally left behind – “kchhh Ah, Mrs Griffore to the Customer Service Desk. Mrs Griffore, to the service desk for a lost child”).
While fighting for attention among my ever expanding family, I unintentionally grew up to be a competitive person.
I’ve also grown to be quite stubborn in my ways. It’s made the need to adapt to a new lifestyle focused on pain management a super blast of a project. I’ve fought hard, oh so hard not to have to change. After a while though, the fight itself became the source of my problems.
The area of my life I most spent in competition was in developing my physical strength.
(Side Bar: I found out in my late 20s that during dinner my sisters used to see how much food they could dump onto my plate without my parents noticing. You see, no one left the table until their meal was finished. I was often the last one at the table. My dad even has video footage of this. He watched. He laughed. And guess what? I’m not a fussy eater. So, thanks Dad!)
Pain for pain relief
While searching for pain relief options as a young adult, I discovered yoga while living in Kelowna, BC. My partner at the time and I were starting to rock climb regularly and yoga was a means to develop strength and flexibility to up my skills.
At the same time, I worked in an array of physically demanding jobs, the likes of pipefitting, landscaping, and forestry technician. You might imagine what the primary gender is that these industries employ. I felt I had something to prove to my male co-workers and bosses.
♪ “Anything you can do, I can do better! I can do anything better than you!” ♪
(No I can’t)
These jobs and the environment which they fostered took their toll on my body leading me to seek out more frequent medical care. I began revolving through walk-in clinic and emergency room physicians. In these visits I was told time and time again that my “problem” was that I was too weak or not strong enough.
“You need to do more core exercises…”
“You should stretch more….”
“You’re shoulder is just weak. You need to go to physio…”
“Your hips are just too tight. Do this hip thrust followed by this hip stretch. That’ll fix it…”
I took their messages seriously. I am weak. I should do better.
It was perhaps unfortunate that I began my yoga journey with Bikram Yoga. You know if you know (“LOCK your knees…LOCK your knees…last chance! LOCK YOUR KNEES!”). I got quite strong doing Bikram Yoga at first, but I think I took the perfection mentality a little too far than was intended.
There are an incredible variety of yoga styles and practices, particularly in the age of online videos: Yoga for Strength, Yoga for Flexibility, Yoga for Sleep, Yoga for Stress, Yoga for Releasing Farts…on and on. Following Bikram, I discovered other, more tolerable yoga styles to work on my strength and flexibility without the yelling and extreme sweat.
On the yoga mat you compete mostly with yourself (although it is incredibly difficult not to admire the strong bodies all around you!). I’m often inspired by those that have the most ease in their movements. Though rather than simply admiring, I compete.
As I stretch and move with the poses I often find myself pushing or pulling to go just…a little…further. Even though the lovely teacher at the head of the class reminds us frequently to “only go to your edge. There should be no pain.”
Pfff, I can handle a little more. It doesn’t hurt that bad.
The sufferfest
I’m still not completely sure what I’m trying to prove by pushing beyond my limits. There’s a documentary called “Sufferfest” that follow two extreme athletes as they prove their worth by cycling their way across California to climb all of it’s peaks over 14,000ft. Alex Honnold and Cedar Wright push themselves to their limits and beyond both physically and mentality, and they take us along for the ride.
I think of them often when I find myself torturing my body for no real tangible reason. There’s a sense of pride in being able to handle an unnecessary amount of discomfort. How hard can you go? How long can you last? Rah. Rah. I am strong.
I’ve seen this attitude in myself in all parts of my life. From how many grocery bags I can shove onto one arm before the circulation to my hand is severed, to how deep I can rotate my spine before my nerves spasm. My counsellor calls this attitude “The 110% Yogi”. Always striving for better, regardless of the consequence.
Finding ease
With my counsellor’s help, I’m finding ease in my movements now. I’ve been introduced to new ways of moving. Ones that move my focus from being the best, to feeling the best. Qi Gong is one of these. The slow movements paired with mindful breathing calms my nerves and let’s me feel that ease in my movements that I’ve so longed for.
I can also enjoy yoga again. Now it’s the practice of getting to know my body intimately. I’ve learned to actually listen to what it needs and to back-off when it tells me to.
I’m still stubborn, and competitive. Though I think I’m finding healthier ways to express those traits. Like playing dead by relaxing every muscle in my body, or finishing a really difficult jigsaw puzzle.
One of many stories coming out of virtually all of us pushing ourselves beyond limits that are unreasonable in how unnecessary it is – all performances of competition and capitalism we have been indoctrinated into.
Thanks for sharing, Sam.
“Performance” is a very appropriate word Ian.
Your vulnerability reveals your strength. Thank you for your openness.