The "P" Word concluded

From the beginning, I understood my posture was a problem, but I didn't understand all I would need to do to change it. My teacher, wisely, did not hit me with the whole "fix" at once. I have since learned that posture is a function of how I use, or fail to use, my postural muscles. I know that sounds a little redundant, but you rarely hear anyone use that terminology these days. I'm convinced many people--like me--have complicated feelings about the whole issue of posture. As a result, the people I've trained with tend to use the "P" word sparingly. Truth be told, Pilates instructors are almost always addressing posture directly or indirectly. All that talk about your "core" muscles? Little secret; it's the same thing, just a different name.

The first building block of "good posture" is the position of your lumbar spine, AKA your lower back. A healthy spine should have a gentle curve in the low back, not too little and not too much. Many, but not all, Pilates instructors teach their clients how to maintain this "neutral spine" position using their abdominal muscles. By the time my teacher was giving me the message I needed to improve my posture I'd already been doing Pilates for years. My abs were strong and I didn't have much trouble mastering the art of stabilizing my low back. My problem lay somewhat higher--in my thoracic spine.

[I've tried to finish this piece for weeks. I keep finding myself right here, stuck at this spot. My first attempt was way too technical. But avoiding the anatomical details and launching right into the meat of the issue feels scary. I've pretended to myself that I don't want to use my clients as examples in case someone reads about herself and feels betrayed. But I'm not sure anyone actually reads my blog, and I wouldn't use any names or other identifying descriptions. Everyone has a spine, after all, how would anyone be sure I was talking about her? But still I'm stuck. So here's the plan. I'm going to write the rest of the piece with my internal critic turned off. I'm going to just let is flow and see where it goes. If anyone reads this and thinks I am writing about your alignment, please be assured I am writing about most of the women I work with. ]

Standing up straight (that is, with good posture) means maintaining a slight convex curve in the upper spine--also known as extending the back. Without this curve it is difficult to keep the head over the pelvis, where it belongs. After several weeks of strengthening my upper back, I was better equipped to stand with my upper back in extension. But it was one thing to stand that way in the studio and quite another to go out into the world with my new and improved alignment. Because establishing that all-important curve requires me to bring my ribcage and sternum forward. It feels scary because it forces me to thrust my chest out and with it my breasts.

The first time I took my more perfect posture out into the wild was a revelation. I felt at once regal and terrified, conspicuous and vulnerable. I was sure people were wondering, "Who is that woman?" or perhaps, "Who does she think she is, Queen Elizabeth?" My muscles were strong enough to keep me standing correctly much longer than my emotions could sustain it. I felt exposed. And while I've never actually experienced anything negative, I have to keep reminding myself I'm okay because I keep expecting something bad to happen.

I've finally concluded the bad thing already happened. It happened a long time ago and it's done its damage. I spend part of most of the lessons I teach undoing that damage.

I work on posture with all of my clients. I've learned to start teaching extension face down on the floor. It's easier for many women to bring their upper backs into extension in this protected position. I've watched an expression of pure terror flash across my client's face when I've cued her to bring her sternum up and out while standing or sitting. It is painful to see the emotion of a frightened little girl play over the face of a mature, adult women.

But I have good news. I've been practicing for a long time now and it gets easier.

The "P" Word

I was raised to believe poor posture is a sign of poor character. No one ever said it in so many words, but the implication was clear from the severe tone of voice and punitive context whenever I was ordered to "Sit up straight, young lady, and stop slouching!" Later I came to understand "She has such lovely posture" to be the highest of compliments--conveying much more than the mere observation of an erect spine.

I started ballet lessons at age 5. Although I enjoyed learning all the positions and leaping across the room with my leotard-clad classmates, I knew why I was there--to overcome clumsiness. I was "tall for my age" and prone to tripping over my own limbs--or at least that is what I recall overhearing. My only memory of actually feeling awkward in my body was years later when I sprouted hips overnight and kept bruising them on desks and tabletops.

I'm sure my mother was both pleased and vindicated when I grew to eventually earn praise for my posture. She believed this to be a triumph over one of femininity's greatest challenges to tall women. She wanted me to be willowy--simultaneously long and elegant, but still supple enough not to seem intimidating. She had two seemingly contradictory fears--that I would not stand up straight enough to be attractive and that I would stand up for myself and repel men by appearing to lack the essential quality of submission.

Her friend Sally, 5' 10" and slender, was deemed tall enough to wear big hats--an asset--but ruined it all by standing with a distinct forward bend of the upper back. I have to admit Sally looked a little like a question mark from the side, but I have her to thank for at least knowing I was among the lucky ones who could manage a wide brim if I wanted to. Otherwise, as far as my mother was concerned, my height was just a source of worry.

I, on the other hand, had a great time being tall. And, as far as I knew, my posture was just fine. Then, in my early 50's I started getting really serious about Pilates. It is not for nothing Pilates instructors are sometimes known as the "posture police". My Pilates teacher placed a foam roller against my back as I stood and pointed out that my head was nowhere near its correct position. Instead of floating comfortably over my tailbone, my head was out in front of my sternum causing all sorts of problems for my neck and upper back muscles. Thus began my quest for better posture.

More to come. Please comment.

Sitting Pretty - Take 1

This is a draft of what I hope will be my first exercise video. If you watch it you'll note that I suddenly have a lisp. Apparently the little tiny microphone on my digital camera cannot handle the "s" sound. I'm not dressed appropriately and the lighting is not good. If all goes well, I will have the help of a film student to improve the production values of this first effort, but the message will be pretty much the same.

Here's the introduction I plan to add:

If you are like most people I know, you don't think you have good posture. Somebody said you were slouching back when you were small. "Sit up straight, young man/lady. Your posture is terrible!" But did that person tell you how to fix the problem? No!! So here's the answer to the question nobody ever bothered to answer, "What can I do to sit with good posture?"

Let me know what you think unless you're laughing too hard to type.