Tag: Belgrade adventures

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I am a Poser!

 

I am a poser. I’ve studied yoga and now Pilates for a combined 20 years. The more I study, the more I start to under the concept of practice and am humbled by the body of work that require precision, repetition and respect.

I am a poser. I have discovered that the repetition brings me comfort. I realize that the practice gives me the illusion of mastery, while humbling me to my personal limitations.

I am a poser… On the other side of the definition. I wonder what in my life is illusion… the other darker poser. What’s real or veneer? And like to consider that we are all posers, a Janus (albeit a friendly one) to some degree.

I have been a yoga poser for a while. I am a relatively new Pilates Poser. I came to Pilates two years ago as a sick woman. I was gently embraced by a beautiful instructor (Kristin) through who’s tenderness and precision helped me rediscovered myself.

Here’s the back story….

One day three years ago, I was crippled with painful peripheral neuropathy. Meaning I had severe pain in my hands and feet. My beautiful stiletto heels were now the enemy and I could barely open a door knob without winching. I was starting to believe that I was entering the “SJGR” (sh*t just got real) stage of life when you start to decline in the sad part of life. The sad part is one that limits your mobility and is starts to evolve around pain, pain mitigation, doctors, medications and the overarching bad mood associated with pain (I learned this is why many older people seem cranky; they hurt.. so be nice. It is horrible to feel bad all the time). Through a series of well-meaning friends and recommendations, I broke free of the doctor-medicine-pain cycle. My diagnosis went from Multiple Sclerosis to Lupus, RA and then the vague Fibromyalgia. Then something amazing happened, I found a holistic physician who tested me for a wide range of maladies and then the puzzle started to come together. I had a series of food allergies and intolerances and I had off-the-charts levels of aspartame in my system. It appears I was being not-so-slowly poisoned by my quest for weight loss and sugar control. The prescription was rather basic: natural foods only. Then there was the elimination of wheat, wheat gluten, dairy, sugar, white flour and anything processed. Seems a bit extreme, yet when you are getting progressively sicker; you will try the treatment. I was warned that the first several weeks would be hard. It is compared to a detox. They were right. The first 2 weeks, I felt like I had the flu. My joints hurt. My head hurt. I was tired. Then around day 15, when I was ready to quit; I felt amazing. I woke up feeling renewed. My feet and hands hurt, but they did not throb. My headache dissipated and my mood was happy (not completely giddy) but much more palpable than feel constantly bitchy (cite: nasty resting bitch face).

At the cornerstone of my comeback was Pilates. When your feet and hands hurt you stop doing things that might aggravate the condition, including my beloved yoga. You stop exercising. You use movement with caution, I was continually anxious that my fingers would seize up while typing. Now this affects how I make my living, my fingers would hurt while I typed. I could not feel the tips, yet pain would radiate through my hands and arms. This was incredibly difficult for me. I was an elite athlete in my youth. Exercise and training is part of my DNA and discipline. I work out, but not anymore. Damn you, SJGR!  Through research and conversation, I found Pilates does not depend on verticality. It employs a variety of non-load bearing equipment: reformer, Cadillac, chair, barrel that give you full range of motion workouts without extremity stress. My quest for a Pilates experience became borderline religious. It healed me. I was looking for a miracle and not afraid to do the work. I came to my instruction journey bloated, overweight, sore and rigid. I was also afraid. Was this the beginning of the end? SJGR, again and again. Was it time to accept it, or fight. Fight for strength, courage and to regain physical ability. I wanted to become a poser. I desperately wanted my flexibility back. I wanted exercise. I wanted to be vertical.  

My journey started in private. Private sessions to focus on the basics. Focus on my ability not inability to move. I embraced my instruction, learned to breath in rhythm of the motion and equipment, allowed the equipment to support me and regained trust in myself. It was a means to gain ballast, balance and became a life mantra.

Slowly the weight started to melt, my range of motion increased and my confidence started to gain positive momentum. The equipment was not intimating it became a gentle net of support. I was kindly supported with Kristin’s expert instruction and lovingly encouraged to push my sore body. I discovered a renewed resiliency.

Yes, I’m now a poser. I was all ready to join the SJGR club, to acquiesce being on the decline. It wasn’t my age that was making me sick.  I was made ill through the excesses of a successful modern life.. too much, too many chemicals, not enough fresh, clean food. I got better through a complete food overhaul and by embracing Pilates.

Today, I am vertical: very, very vertical. I have excellent range of motion and walk an average of 7 miles daily. This summer I am travelling Europe as part of the Remote Year program. In each city, I seek out private Pilates studios to continue to study. It has become my foundation to a highly dynamic program.

 In Belgrade, I was treated to an advanced studio with focus on personalized progression. In my first session, I stopped with an exercise prior to the queue. I did eight repetitions. The instructor in her abrupt manner (for the full effect – muster your best Eastern European accent) called me out with, ‘there’s nothing wrong with your body, you need to do a few more..’. Initially I was startled and a tad pissed off. Then I realized she did not know my journey, she only saw me today. I was holding back, because of my own fear not because of my ability. She saw someone strong. It was then that I realized this was a gift. I am capable. I am still an athlete. Tears welled in my ears and do every time I think of this moment.  At this very moment, I knew I wasn’t sick any more. Fuck the SJGR club. At this moment, I had the strength, confidence and mettle of the 16 year old skater I was that just landed her first flawless double axel. It was and still feels awesome.  I was back. I was fucking back.

Yes, I am a poser. Now that I’m In Lisbon (new month/new city), my instructor started our relationship with an evaluation. Through her 12 point program, I ranked highest in 9 areas with 3 requiring improvement (damn you, side plank). She is a former professional classical ballet dancer that moves effortless through space with a gliding natural gait. I think she levitates.  Her approach is stylistic with an elegant approach but not lacking in strength. Her studio is perched atop a narrow cobblestone street in old town Lisbon. It is a workout to get there and so worth the effort.

As a newly minted and re-focused poser.. I’m finding that I will seek out those who will help me grow my practice, enhance my form. There is no competitive Pilates. It’s all about you and your journey. There is no gold medal. This is about a personal path. It’s about skill building, discipline, vitality and individual growth. This is not something you can buy, you must earn it. There is something vastly satisfying in individual accomplishment. No one needs to know my journey. I guess you do now. You will not see pictures of me in my finest lululemon garb doing planks (but if I could master the side plank, then maybe I’d entertain showing off) on the Portugal cliffs. But I am not ready for the SJGR club. Never ever, ever give up! Own your destiny.. Strike a pose…

 P.S… I’m toying with the idea of writing about my entire journey.. diagnosis, minimalism, regaining equilibrium post-divorce, post- corporate career and facing the downside of being middle aged. It’s a very exciting and challenging time like reverse teen years. Let me know if you think that would be interesting too. I’m not looking to do a vanity piece, more of an instruction manual, because I feel like I’m discovering this on my own. There are no role models, we’re inventing this as we’re going! It could be fun.

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Nailing it in Belgrade

Let me tell you that when you take yourself out of your regular environment and are thrown into a completely different locale, stuff starts to happen.. It’s called change. If you leave yourself open to the possibilities, you can find magic in the mundane.

Somewhere around week 3, you start to realize that almost everything you do is different than you do in your home environment. When you vacation, it’s fun.. it’s part of the cool part of going somewhere new. When you start to call someplace  a temporary home, there’s all sorts of things you start to need or want to make your life comfortable. For me.. it was time to get a manicure. Well, this became an immediate emergency and obsession on so many levels. I thought the sky was falling ! Where the hell am I going to get my nails done in Belgrade? (As if the rotation of the earth depended on my nails!)  In the US, we are accustomed to a wide variety of inexpensive, fast nail options. It’s as if there  is a requirement that at least one nail salon be in any strip mall.  I discovered (my extensive research is thanks to Google) that there were 7 standalone nail salons, a 3 day spas offering nail services in a 5 mile radius of my home. It’s no secret that most of the standalone nail salons are foreign owned and operated. It’s part of our community fabric and the entry point to the economy. Your interaction with them is easy: you show up, they do your nails, you pay them, the next person gets in the chair. In masterful supply chain execution, regardless of how many people are in the salon; there always seems to be someone who can service your need immediately. This makes it almost a fast food commodity… McChair 2 is waiting and supersize me. 

Here in Belgrade, the nail salon is considered a value added service. You have to find someone, who knows someone to get you access to the most skilled technician. There is not a nail salon on every corner. Cleverly, I asked my new Pilates friends who does the best nails. They all gave me the same answer ending with… it may take some time to get an appointment. I immediately got on Google to search for them, eureka!.. a Facebook page.. The digital hunt starts: Liking their page, then requesting via messenger for an appointment.. Starting off..’ my apologies, I do not speak Serbian’… then getting a cryptic reply.. two new vacancies, you must reply immediately. Not knowing if it was a regular direct Serbian response or the person’s English; I responded not quite immediately. My response was too late! These people are relentless. This is serious. Game on. I then asked for the next available, it was 3 days out. This may not seem like much, but remember… I’m used to having 10 options at my chipped nail fingertips. I took the appointment, got Maps to take me within steps of the well-hidden secret entrance (seems to be a prevailing theme in Serbia… how can we disguise the entrance game..?)     I rang the security bell, and was promptly greeted by a well-groomed woman wearing a white medical coat embroidered with the salon logo. I was in the inner sanctum! She seated me, gave me beverage  (a nice chilled beverage, might I add) and got the process going. My appointment was at 2:30 and I was in the chair at 2:29. My technician got her tools and space prepped and laid out 20 color wheels, each with 19 different hues for me to select. This must be color heaven! We decided that my summer emergency demands a bright color and a punched up hue of magenta was selected. She commented on the quality of my prior manicure and wanted to know if it was ‘executed’ locally… Made me smile. It was ‘executed’ all right.  Remember I said I was in full-on nail emergency, I was looking all chipped and snaggle-nailed. I needed an expert.

The process of polish removing, cuticle shaping and nail filing is boring.. but she had a rhythm to her work that kept me engaged with the process and even liking being there. Her polish application was extraordinary precise. It was also kind of funny, but the background suspended TV had a US episode of “Big RV’s”; focused on Americans buying RV’s for family vacations. Hearing it dubbed in Serbian was telling in a bad way like looking in to us from the outside (and it wasn’t pretty)… My whole nail extravaganza lasted an hour and half and there was chilled Serbian wine!

This was not a trivial outing. It was an experience, a nice experience. The atmosphere in the salon was communal, these people liked each other. They liked working together and they enjoyed their customers. I wasn’t just sitting in McChair 2. All of this for $15.. Did I mention the chilled Serbian wine too?  While there, I got the follow-on manicure appointment, booked a pedicure and got myself in queue for a facial. I might end up spending a day there in the hidden retreat behind the buzzer door.

I do declare: this is the best manicure I have every had! I’m giddy over it. It makes me happy. It’s another instance of finding magic in the ordinary, Belgrade style. This is city of contrast, grit and artistry at every turn.. even in the nail salon. I am smitten.

 End Note:

The New York Times did an interesting expose the state of US Nail Salons. It’s a good read. Makes you look at supply-demand and fair wages in a whole different light.