NOTE: The following piece was submitted by Cameron Macdonald, owner of Precision Pilates in Annapolis, Maryland. Francis Carty, one of Cameron's students, chose to write about the emotions and struggles she experienced throughout her PPS-I trainings. Peak Pilates has recently invited Carty to begin writing her own student blog for the Community. If you are interested in contributing a student blog, please e-mail ali@peakpilates.com.
Recently, I made the choice to become a Pilates instructor. The path that I chose was not easy on any level. It is a large educational commitment that is very time consuming, physically challenging, and more than a little bit expensive. Yet, it is absolutely the right thing for my career at this point in time. Past graduates of the program told me the expression, “you have to break down (i.e. cry) in order to break through (i.e. gain skills)” was used frequently in this teaching methodology. What on earth had I gotten myself into?! Despite the fact that my personal philosophy was to make “a commitment to constant self improvement,” I was challenged.
I arrived to the training with a strong resolve to do my best and not to give into emotional drama. The first day, I was full of enthusiasm, eager to soak up tons of knowledge. Our day was busy. We practiced the hour-long mat routine four times. Interspersed into those practice sessions were hours of lectures and we were taught a new vocabulary and unfamiliar movement patterns. We were also required to teach each other the material that we had not yet mastered. Introverts, like me, do not like verbalizing what they have not finished internalizing at all. Still, the first day ended without incident. My husband’s sympathetic description of my summarized day is that we were drinking from a fire hose.
The second day entailed only a quick refresher of the first day’s information and then more new information. It quickly took the wind out of my sails. At the 15th hour of this 32-hour weekend, my eyes started to leak quietly from the stress. Every muscle in my body was aching and my brain was saturated. I never intended to look soft. It was embarrassing to be the first one to cry. Worse still, the idea of being the object of sympathy from my fellow classmates was unappealing. But what really pushed me over the edge, was the Silent Drill. In it, we were required to demonstrate our knowledge of the material without any help in front of our instructor and classmates. This is especially difficult in Pilates as the student is typically lying down, has limited visibility and relies almost entirely on verbal clues from the teacher. Additionally, the student’s concentration should be hyper-focused on bodily alignment. The Silent Drill required us to do each of the 24 exercises in the proper order, at the correct tempo, while maintaining physical control of infrequently used small muscles.
Now, I was openly crying in front of what must have surely been the entire world. Intense humiliation is a mild description of the fear that gripped me. Truly, I would have preferred jumping from the window rather than endure torture of this kind. I mentally tossed around the idea of acting like an indignant consumer and insisting that I didn’t pay to be humiliated in this fashion. This drill also posed an enormous challenge to my other personal belief in blending to the point of invisibility. I felt exposed and vulnerable.
Aside from the non-refundable tuition cost, quitting appeared to have no grave consequences. Still, in my heart of hearts, I knew that the cliché was true and this was my moment to shine. Perseverance became the virtue of the hour. Begrudgingly, I meditated on my husband’s mantra of, “I can do anything for a day.” I decided it was time for the rubber to meet the road, for my true character to emerge. My excuses of embarrassment and insecurity simply weren’t good enough anymore. So, I pushed aside the all of my fears and just powered though the Silent Drill. The decision to keep going became something that I could share with my children and clients in the future. It was one heck of a teachable moment. Be fully present in the present, use your powerhouse and believe that change is difficult, but without it there is no growth. Understand the universal truth that everyone has reasons for not wanting to do things that they ought to do. But, real change only occurs when you find the strength to push yourself through that resistance.
The goal of this teaching style is to develop inner strength through immersion and it worked. Muscle memory pulled me through the Silent Drill. When it was over, I felt stronger than I ever have in the past. It helped when I realized that everyone else was just as nervous as I was. No one gave a flawless performance, but everyone did a really good job and that’s what counts. We all left that night with a deepened friendship and a new definition of tired.
Physically, Pilates requires that one uses the muscles of the core and the seat to cause the limbs to move. It also requires use of concentration, will, and desire, to power one’s self though obstacles in our path. The powerhouse inside each and every one of us is not something to be taken lightly or ignored. It is a powerful tool.
The second part of this intensive training program is still on the horizon. But this time I know that I will succeed. I am very grateful for all of the support has so generously been shared. Family, friends, classmates, clients and countless other mentors have given me a new sense of confidence. This isn’t the arrogance of assuming that I will easily glide thought the next stage, but rather the contentment that comes from looking forward to future challenges.
- Frances Carty, PPS-I grad, November 2007