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Posts Tagged ‘fitness’

 

bookstore lenox interior shelves

One thing I miss, in this strange time of restricted movement: popping into my favorite shops (and restaurants).

A couple of my faves, like my beloved florist and the best taqueria in Maverick Square, have simply closed down for the duration. There’s not much I can do except look forward to the day when I can visit them again. (You can bet I’ll be hugging my florist, when it’s safe to do so.) But there are a few other small businesses I’m supporting with my dollars, during this crazy time. Here’s a list, in case you’re in need of books or tea or stationery, or other fun things, and have a bit of cash to spare.

  • Trident, Brookline Booksmith and the Harvard Book Store are my three favorite indie bookshops in Boston, and they’re all still operating online. (Trident’s cafe is still open, too, if you’re local.) If you’re a book lover, please support an indie bookstore during this time – they are such centers of creativity and joy, and they really need the cash flow.
  • My two favorite yoga/fitness studios, The Point EB and Savin Hill Fitness, are offering online classes via Zoom. They’re super reasonable – Savin Hill even offers one free class each day – and the instructors are great.
  • Mem Tea Imports, based in Somerville, is still shipping their delicious teas. I stocked up in mid-March, and I’m sure I’ll be making another order soon. They always stick an extra sample or two in each order.
  • I ordered some fun quarantine correspondence cards from 1canoe2, a small stationery business I’ve loved for years. They are hilarious and cute.
  • Jenny at Carrot Top Paper Shop is still bringing the cheer, even drawing some of her heroines wearing masks. Love love love.
  • Marathon Sports, my favorite Boston-based running store, is still shipping online orders. They’ve provided me with new running shoes and a much-needed foam roller since this all started.

What are some favorite small businesses you’re supporting right now?

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As with so many other aspects of our lives these days, my yoga practice has gone online.

I discovered yoga about 10 years ago, when a friend invited me to some classes taking place in the Center for Contemporary Arts in downtown Abilene. I was (and remain) a bit intimidated by people who can twist their bodies into pretzel-like shapes, but I fell in love with the poses and breath work, and with McKay (the instructor’s) warm, practical, down-to-earth approach to yoga. When I moved to Boston, I immediately started taking classes at Healing Tree in Quincy, just down the road from my house. And when I moved to Eastie last summer, I found and fell in love with The Point.

Right as the social-distancing plans were ramping up, I went to a Sunday night restorative class at The Point. I had a hunch (correct, it turned out) that it would be my last chance for a while. There were three of us plus Taylor, the instructor, and we spread out with mats and blankets and bolsters, and tried to breathe deeply by candlelight. I felt it might fortify me, somehow, for whatever was coming next.

Since then, I’ve been dipping into Yoga with Adriene on YouTube and taking virtual online classes from both The Point and my friend Erin’s studio, Savin Hill Fitness. I like Adriene’s calm voice and occasional Texas twang (and her dog, Benji). I like that her videos are there for me any time. But I also like the virtual classes: even though we’re not in the room together, it helps me to know there’s a live instructor on the other side of the camera. The best part, when I’m taking from an instructor I know, is getting to wave at Erin or Izzy or Renee at the beginning or end of class.

Yoga is, of course, often silent and individual, except for the instructor’s voice. But for me it is also about community. It’s been a way for me to ground myself in the places I have lived. And even though I’m doing it solo on my kitchen floor these days, it’s still providing a bit of connection. Not to mention some seriously needed stretching, core work and deep breaths.

Are you doing yoga (or other workouts) online these days?

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(Editor’s Note: My husband, Jeremiah, offered to guest post for me about a recent eye-opening experience, which dovetails nicely with yesterday’s post on being seen. Enjoy!)

I have one of the best jobs in the world. Because I’m a family therapist, people invite me into their homes to dream with them, listen to them, help empower them to change their lives. I witness forgiveness, empathy and healing with couples of all ages and situations. I identify the strengths of teenage guys and participate in their passions; I have one teenage client I dance with, another who’s teaching me to draw, and another who plays basketball with me.

My job is also incredibly humbling. Why anyone would trust their secrets, pasts and traumas to a 20-something is beyond me. And I ask many things of my clients that I wouldn’t do myself.

For example, I’m working with a recovering alcoholic who decided last week to write down his guilt and fears each night, put them in a balloon, and send them heavenward. One of my new clients this week blamed her boyfriend for refusing to come to therapy; by the end of the hour, she was encountering questions like “What happens when you’re not in a relationship?” and staring down loneliness. If anyone, professional or otherwise, intruded that deeply into my life after knowing me for an hour, I’d be furious.

I joined a gym this week, and as a new client, I consulted with a fitness specialist about my health goals. We began by discussing my previous experience with gyms, then building a workout plan to motivate me to hit the gym consistently.

The specialist then asked about my diet. I admitted to eating one too many McDonalds/Wendy’s cheeseburgers recently, and made excuses for eating only two meals a day. Sometimes I see eight clients back to back with breaks only for driving, which means I skip lunch regularly, but I’ve always been insecure about eating too much because I’m afraid of becoming overweight. Not that I told the specialist that —after all, he’d only known me for 20 minutes.

The specialist then measured my body fat percentage (embarrassing) and had me do several exercises. I completed the first one, which involved staying in an upright pushup position for 90 seconds, but my core started burning about halfway through. I didn’t give up, but he wasn’t fooled, saying, “I saw you struggle with that.” Few people ever see me struggle, and even fewer get to call me out on it.

Finally, he asked about my posture: a back injury from a car wreck and sitting in a chair for eight hours a day have done no favors to my spinal column.

After learning about my physical faults, the secrets I’m unwilling to share and the emotional scars I cover up with excuses and fake smiles, he still wanted to work with me. He was honest, explaining that change wouldn’t happen overnight—in fact, I think his estimate of cutting my body fat percentage in half, losing 10 pounds and adding muscle tone in just five months of consistent healthy eating and gym usage, was a bit generous.

As I listened to him talk, I realized: This is my therapy. This is me putting myself in the other chair, letting someone listen to and take care of me for an hour each week. And it’s something I need. When my trainer asks, “What kept you from meeting your diet goals this week?” I’ll either have to avoid the question, deflect it with a simple, universal answer like “laziness,” or confront my deep insecurities. I hope to be encouraged, challenged and empowered to make my life better.

What are some traditional and non-traditional therapy experiences you’ve had? How did you overcome the initial fear of releasing your secrets and insecurities to your therapist/trainer/guide?

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