Are you doing it wrong?

If I were to always trust what I see about fitness and well-being on social media, I would know that I was doing life wrong.

Every time I'm online I see content telling me all of the ways that I need to exercise, eat, sleep, self-care, and breathe my way to an unspecified, but seemingly highly valued, quality of life.

According to my algorithm, I am definitely not doing life right, nor have I ever been doing it right (enough).

A lot of the fitness content that shows up on my feed is clickbait, or, it is questionable whether or not a human wrote it (unlike this blog post, which AI did not assist me with... unfiltered Ashley thoughts right here!).

Regardless of origin, a common theme these days is content about strength training for women. Is it true that strength training has immense benefits to all people, including women?

Yes.

And, strength means different things to different bodies, different functional goals, and different capacity.

Celebrating at Point Pelee after 4 months of rehab so I could walk and hike again

Everyone should be grading exercise to meet them where they're at, adding load when appropriate, and being gentle with the reality that our bodies be body-ing.

Whether intentional or not, a lot of the fitness content I see online is rooted in the idea that we gain worth from being able-bodied, having a high capacity, and being productive. If we have to lift heavy to achieve that goal, and we're not lifting heavy, we're a bad person and are at fault for all of our problems (even if we are meeting our body where it's at with movement).

When you pause and think about it, you realize how incredibly insulting it is to suggest that someone with a disability that impacts their physical ability, capacity, or productivity is somehow less than if they haven't found the special unicorn sauce that lets them lift heavy, sleep well, or afford vegetables.

We will all inevitably become part of this group of people who have physical barriers, chronic illness, injuries, and disability. It's not a question of if, but a question of when. Our value as humans doesn't decrease when this happens.

Aging is part of life, one that we're told we're supposed to be scared of and should make valiant efforts to slow or reverse, but we don't have to adopt that view.

We can get irritated, sad, rage-y about parts of aging and disability. We can miss our more abled body, and grieve how illness or disability has changed our life. We can let ourselves feel that it's unfair, and sometimes we might even wish things were different.

We can also recognize that we aren't doing anything wrong. We're not failing, and it isn't our fault that as we move through the world, our body accumulates miles. That's actually what is expected. It means we're alive.

Something that I have felt and said to my own support team, and that I hear all the time in studio is, "but I'm doing everything right, and I'm still not better." We can do everything right, and still have a disability, illness, or injury. And, doing everything right isn't an obligation we owe the world. We're allowed to be imperfect. It can be scary to acknowledge this, because what we have to face is that we can't control everything (despite our best efforts).

Celebrating at Oastler Lake Provincial Park after 16 months of rehab so I could do a 5ish minute paddle on the lake

I am right here in the muck of this with you. I too am just a human who tries to do everything right, and gets frustrated when I feel my disability is interrupting my best laid plans. I have to work to remind myself that I don't have to do everything right in order to earn compassion, medical care, or belonging. I struggle with facing the world with my limitations without apologizing for them. I want people to understand something that most of them probably can't understand, and some don't want to even try to understand.

This isn't an easy task, it's a rumbling we each have to navigate in our own ways.

What if when we were ready, the rumbling let us shift away from thinking that our health, capacity, and physical capabilities are a sign of our superiority, and instead, love ourselves and those around us for who we (and they) are. We could truly enjoy all of the wonderful gifts we each share with the world.

Studio members enjoying time together without knowing who can and can't do a roll up

When I think of my loved ones who have died, I don't remember how much weight they could lift, or if they ever ran a marathon. I don't remember how many days they went to the gym, or what size of clothing they wore.

I remember how loved they made me feel, the softness of my mom's hand in mine, how much my dad made me laugh (and also how annoying he could be, lol). I remember how much my uncle taught me about my first car, and how he let my 3 year old paint his nails every single time he visited us.

I don't remember how many kilometers we walked together, but I do remember the things we talked about on those walks, the places we visited, the ice cream breaks we took, how I felt when we were together, and the beauty of the world around us.

My mom and I both love(d) tiger tail ice cream!

When I am in a place of wishing for more time with my loved ones, I never think, I wish I could have one more day with my mom so that she could do more Pilates. I think about the questions I'd ask her, the food we'd eat together, the traditions we'd get one more time to experience.

All of this to say, yes, be a good caretaker of your mind and body in ways that support you in your life. And, also remember that for some of us, lifting 200 lbs or even 50 lbs is not ever going to be in the cards, and that's okay. It's not a moral failing if you can't get there, and someone who insists that everyone can, has obviously never experienced what you and I have.

Don't let your physical reality prevent you from offering yourself and others compassion, or keep you from the things that help you navigate life because some stranger on the internet says it only counts if you're lifting heavy.

You can work towards an unknown goal. You can try the things you want to try. You can explore what's possible for you. The outcome isn't where your worth comes from.

You can come to Pilates and lie on your back the entire class, if that's what's available to you today (yes, this is a thing in my studio!).

Encouragement is only encouragement if it is encouraging. If online content about how to improve your well-being is discouraging, makes it impossible to navigate grief, or is constantly reminding you that you suck at life, maybe that's not what we call encouragement after all.

Make small choices that support you. They don't have to be the same small choices people on the internet tell you that you need to make. You can trust yourself to know what is supportive.

The small choices you make count. All of them count.