Falling in love with lifting

Remember to breathe. Remember that exercise is fun. Keep your feet turned out. Try not to slam… Remember to breathe. Remember that exercise is fun. Keep your feet turned out. Try not to slam the weights. Exhale as you lift. Inhale as you release. Don’t slam the weights. Remember: effort is normal; pain is not. Don’t slam the weights! Remember that this is for fun, for fun, for fun.

I received this litany of advice from a spry woman wearing exercise clothing structurally engineered to make others feel bad about their bodies. Her name may not have been Kimi, but that’s what I remember calling her. I was 12 years old, wearing my mother’s athletic shorts that reached my knees. Sweat beaded at my forehead, in my armpits, on the backs of my knees and between each finger and toe.

I had just fallen in love.

Most people consider weightlifting a simple rest stop on the way to physical fitness. Most people do not have cathartic experiences on an abductor/adductor machine or get closer to the sublime electrical curve of all existence while working on their triceps. But I do.

Weightlifting – beyond stabilizing muscles, boosting metabolic rates and building stronger, leaner human beings – floods the brain with endorphins. It’s about the energy, the thrill and the clarity that comes from putting mind over muscle mass. It’s about the power of one person sitting on a blue padded seat, pressing the tongue against the roof of the mouth and combining muscles, tendons and connective tissues into something beautiful.

Why, then, don’t more women do it?

Each time I enter Amos Hall’s small exercise area, women jog on the treadmills, use the elliptical runner and hike up the stair climber. Rarely do I find the weight machines occupied. Of those who do venture toward that area, an even slimmer percent know how to work out properly, yet many are wearing T-shirts advertising their high school athleticism.

Clearly these women value physical fitness, but have not received the message that weightlifting comprises a key spoke in their routine. Why does this discrepancy exist?

It is not for lack of trying. Most gyms – including Pitt’s – offer a consultation with a personal trainer. High school sports have begun to emphasize resistance training, a gussied up term for weightlifting. But the message has not gotten through.

Women have a greater risk of developing knee problems because of their body structure. Our quadriceps descend from hip to knee at an angle, causing an imbalance in strength and muscle mass. Nature tends to combat this by collecting fat around the joint to pad impact. But because fat is a taboo in our society, women often deprive themselves of the only defense evolution gave us.

Common reasons for not lifting include fears of building bulk, looking unfeminine or appearing foolish. To the first two, I offer the fact that Marilyn Monroe lifted weights and she represents the ultimate in voluptuous femininity. To the third, the answer becomes complicated.

There is a technique behind weightlifting and help is readily available. Thirty years ago, Title IX decreed that women’s sports should receive equal attention and funding. We need to take the spirit of that act and extend it beyond high school and college sports. Part of being adults is learning to protect our bodies against environmental and sports-related stressors.

If I could give every 12-year-old a Kimi, I would. Beyond the grocery list of advice, she revealed the power that my body could have and the means of achieving it. Every time I open a jar, strike a yoga pose or sling a case of beer over my shoulder, I thank her silently. Just remember that exercise can be fun, that a fuzzy line divides work and play, that is, a fuzzy line can be as natural as breathing. Just don’t slam the weights.

Sydney Bergman almost never slams the weights. She can be reached at sbb23@pitt.edu.