Last year I took a stab at a hashtag campaign. #IHEARTTRACYANDERSON. I was getting remarried and wanted to look like a super model with a PHD - code for smart and sultry. Let's just say, as a GenXer, I may need my intern to shift-shape my quirkiness and deep thinking into social media cool. Speaking of shape shifting, I find myself giving that wellness campaign, minus the #, another go. Why? Because it works.
While running is a solitary endeavor (no talking, no socializing – just me, my music and I), its perhaps the teacher in me, that gravitates toward intense student-centered workouts. Kickboxing, spinning, and hip hop dance class.– oh yeah! Yoga – nah... hot yoga...maybe.
Even though Tracy Anderson positions herself as the working mom's body reshaper, I first dabbled in her “ Method” way before my daughter was in the oven or losing my baby weight was on the horizon. It was hard, it hurt and required a learning curve that brought out the warrior ballerina in me. If Madonna was doing it, I was hell bent on at least trying it. Because in my mind Madonna and I are on the same playing field (I'm a ninja mind shifter too). Now, that I am needing some body assistance, her workout program could well, work out for me.
With a child and an emerging business, time is a commodity that I beg, borrow or steal to have more of especially when its for carving out moments for say exercising, that are for me and my rejuvenation. However, after several attempts to get up before the crack of dawn (another hashtag journey), I realize with complete certainty that I heart Tracy Anderson, just not at 5 in the morning.
So when am I going to exercise? Like everything in life, my actions are representative of my perceptions, values and feelings. Is my schedule actually like a a crazy jigsaw puzzle with a 1000 pieces scattered all over the place or am I perceiving it as so? As it turns out, I have solid blocks of time in the late afternoon and early evening (my prime workout times) to go to the usually empty mini gym in my building (I can run on the treadmill and use the dance studio).
As a working mom, I value my time with my daughter and yet where is it written that our time needs to be time spent entirely sitting on a multi-colored mat waving animal puppets in her face. Our time is our time. Besides, she is quite tickled to watch her mommy bounce around like a rag doll in front of a huge mirror. While some feel my Method mission is selfish or vain, as I shrink down to my old size I remind myself what Ms. DVF says, “My relationship with myself is the most important one I my life”. If my well is not full, how can I share with others?
The time is there, I just have to use it. (it will definitely not be before dawn).