Jun. 17th, 2009

ladysprite: (Default)
So a little while back I posted asking for recommendations for workout videos, and a bunch of you came through with some very good suggestions. And my library made things even better, having an impressive selection available - if not in my local branch, easily ordered through Interlibrary Loan, letting me audition new videos before shelling out inordinate amounts of money just to try them.

I've tried out a handful of new workouts at this point, and I've come to a realization: I like most forms of exercise. Yoga, cardio, dance, you name it, the motion itself seems to work for my body no matter what. There's just one thing that seems to really run the risk of making a particular workout intolerable, but it's a common problem -

The workout instructor. They seem to feel the need to inspire me, and reassure me, and tell me how shiny and good and worthy I am, instead of just telling me how to stretch and burn calories. They want to motivate. I want to exercise.

Today's video (Denise Austin's Pilates for Every Body) was a particularly heinous offender. She just *stood* there, with her giant creepy overly-made-up eyes and kept telling me in her strangely perky yet breathy voice that I was beautiful, and good, and that she wanted to see my bright, smiling face, and that I was making myself a better person, and fulfilling God's plan for me, and exhorting me to zip up my inner girdle, whatever that means. (Do girdles even have zippers?)

This was made even worse by the fact that, other than her incessant self-help blather, it was actually a pretty decent workout. Nothing strenuous or challenging, but I could imagine it becoming a nice low-impact variant in my standard schedule. Except I'd want to take a spork to my TV screen after the third or fourth time through.

Do not tell me I am doing a good job. You can't see me. Don't talk about my smiling face, or personal empowerment, or the flow of my chi. Tell me to do three more repetitions and then change sides, or to keep my shoulders down as I stretch, or to use one leg for the next exercise if it's not challenging enough with two. I want an exercise instructor, not a motivational speaker.

Thankfully, Miss Creepy Eyes and her Inner Girdle are bound for the library again in a couple of days. With any luck, the next one I try won't be quite as... motivational.

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