Thursday, March 22, 2012

What Separates the Men from the Boys

I've always considered myself fairly hard core as far as athletics were concerned. I was female athlete of the year three years in a row in high school, was a star in basketball and volleyball, and made my university varsity track-and-field team, which had the strongest female middle distance team in the NAIA. Naturally, I was feeling extremely confident during my first days at the pole studio. Unfortunately for me, the full range of movement required for the combination of dance and gymnastics that is pole, was never a criteria for my training in the past. It was a brutal blow to my ego and confidence when I started facing the below issues:
  1. I am 6 feet tall. I was always proud of my height and body, and you probably won't meet another woman out there who has a better body image of herself than me, but trying to lift 3.5 feet worth of limbs vs 2.5 feet makes a huge difference as far as physics are concerned (yes, I did just measure the length of my legs...). At the beginning, some moves took me  twice or three times as long to learn as the average height girls. 
  2. I have ZERO flexibility. If you have kids/planning to have kids, do not let them become professional runners! Your hips, hamstrings, calves, back, knees, and shoulders tighten up worse than Pinocchio, not mention the high impact jarring that missaligns the spine, knees, and feet. Do you really want all that, in addition to a raging endorphin addiction??? 
  3. My muscles are retarded. I grew up as a lean running machine, with minimal muscle mass to keep off bulk. Add to that the fact that tall people develop later (yes, weak and pathetic in addition to flat and non-hippy, huzzah!), and all of a sudden I'm at the back of the class, feeling like my ass has a sack of potatoes attached to it, while everyone else is doing back flips off the pole. I didn't really start developing major  back/shoulder/thigh muscles required until 1.5 years into this endeavor.
  4. My metabolism is in overdrive. This doesn't sound like a disadvantage to a normal person, but it's a deal breaker for a poler. It takes me 2 minutes to get my body scorching, and I don't cool down for a good half hour. Just a little moisture on my hands, shoulders, and elbows, and I'm slipping on the brass (and especially chrome) worse than a gecko on Teflon. I have developed a system to keep myself as cool and grippy as possible through a combination of an industrial fan aimed straight at my pole, and three different types of grips (aka handcrack): liquid chalk based, liquid glue based, and powder chalk based. Someone invent a pole-suit already! There is a market for these things! (More on pole gear later).
But I also came to the studio with a lot of advantages: my core was strong, my endurance could beat the likes of the Energizer Bunny, and above all I had the training habits of a serious athlete, so I didn't expect less from myself than the usual 110%. I came to the studio 5 or 6 times a week for two hours, training on the pole, stretching, strengthening my hips, and undergoing basic dance instruction. I went to the gym to work on my wrist and back muscles. I ran to keep up my endurance so that one day I could perform a 4 minute routine (which as I found out is very much akin to the intense 800 m races I used to run). Now, after almost three years of this, I'm starting to see the beginning of some results. 

Still, that is not enough to be a professional pole athlete. 99% of pros come from an intense gymnastics, dance, and sometimes ballet background, and are fit to join the ranks of Curque du Soleil. They train consistently, and at a young age, in the classics, and tend to stumble onto aerial pole as adults. As with most sports, there is a specific body type that gives you optimum advantages: being short and stout, much like in gymnastics, is the best combination. This sport clearly doesn't deserve any of the stigma and stereotypes that the public puts onto it. The pros and amateurs of today are not just pole athletes, they are pioneers!






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