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fitness

Running Free

August 16, 2016 By Nicole Kear Filed Under: Dispatches From Babyville Tagged With: Babyville, bookworm, childhood, dispatches, fitness, Nicole Kear, tag

When I saw a ball coming towards me as a kid, my first thought was: “run.” Not towards the ball but away from it. If the ball was big enough, I might use it to sit on while reading a book. That was about the extent of my experience with balls. I was the archetypal bookworm, knocking over huge displays of breakfast cereal at the grocery store when I walked right into them while reading. One can certainly be both a bookworm and a sports star, just not if one is me.

Though I didn’t know him at the time, my husband was precisely the same way. He was neither asthmatic nor French, but I do imagine him as a little Proust, scribbling feverishly in a notebook, crying for his mother and lingering over cookies. It’s no surprise then, that our children, aged 11, 9 and 4, are ball-averse story junkies.

In general, I love that my kids share one of my great passions. It allows for easy bonding and there’s always someone to talk to about the latest This American Life podcast. Our shared, sedentary interest is also very convenient on those days when I am thoroughly, ruthlessly exhausted – which is to say, pretty much every day.

When they were young (and still with my preschooler) hypnosis via story-telling was the only way I could distract my kids into doing things they didn’t want to do, such as eating, sleeping, going to the bathroom, walking places, and, occasionally breathing.

The one drawback, though, is that the fine arts of reading, writing, talking and listening do not afford children a ton of physical exercise. And as everyone knows, daily physical exertion is necessary for a healthy lifestyle. Perhaps more importantly, daily physical exertion is necessary for sleep.

This is an important fact when you consider that in addition to being ball-averse, my kids are also sleep-averse. The level of exertion necessary to wear my kids out is extraordinarily high, which is somewhat ironic. It is as though jet fuel courses in their veins instead of blood. Physical romps which cause other children to fall alssep on the subway ride home have no affect whatsoever on my children’s level of alertness. I have no explanation for this. I do, however, have a remedy, namely: Run them ragged.

When you’re trying to think up ways to thoroughly drain the charge out from your kids’ batteries, the first thing you think of is: balls. So, recently, I bought the biggest ball I could find and I dragged my children to a nearby basketball court.

“Play with this ball!” I instructed, like I was a mom from Mars impersonating a human. “Throw it in the basket! It is fun!”

And they did, for two and a half minutes. But they soon tired of the endeavor. Sometimes the ball went in, and sometimes it didn’t and either way it seemed to feel about the same.

So I tried a new game.

“Chase it! Get it!” I instructed, throwing the ball away from my kids. In the dog community, I believe this game is referred to as “Fetch” and it’s a huge hit. It’s less popular well with human children. 

I did not, however, give up. I took the dog game one step further, unleashing our family’s ace in the hole –imagination.

“Let’s pretend the ball is a dog who’s running away from us!” I told my four-year-old, bouncing the ball away from her. “Fido, you naughty little doggie! Come back here!” And, lo and behold, she ran after it, chortling with glee. But ten minutes later, the novelty had worn off.

“Run, run, run!” I exhorted the kids.

“Why?” they asked.

“You’re kids!” I reminded them. “You don’t need a reason to run! It’s supposed to be what you do. A wolf howls. A bird flies. Children run.”

And that’s when my 11-year-old said: “Let’s play tag.”

As a child, I was not a huge fan of tag. I was too busy inventing soap operas for my Barbies to enact, and gossiping with my imaginary friends.

I wasn’t a big fan of tag as a child but I am a big fan now. It involves constant, ceaseless running, which dovetails nicely with my maternal agenda. It is a game that both an 11-year-old and a 4-year-old can enjoy. And it requires no equipment, making it totally free.

But the real reason I love tag is that it’s one of those games you can only truly enjoy in childhood. You reach a certain age, and the appeal just evaporates. I like a good chase scene . . . but only if I’m watching it in a blockbuster while sitting down and shoving popcorn in my mouth. The kids, though, want to be the stars of the chase scene. It’s exciting. It’s invigorating. It’s high stakes.

I sat on a bench at the park and watched the kids play tag. It was a stunning early summer morning – the sun warming but not yet oppressive. There was a delicious breeze that rustled the leaves and almost made me feel as if I lived in the countryside. My kids each bent down on one knee and stuck their feet together.

“Bubble gum bubble gum in a dish, how many pieces do you wish?” my son began – but my littlest one interrupted him. She is wont to pipe up whenever the opportunity presents itself and frequently even when it doesn’t.

“Let me do it! Let ME say the words!” she insisted. And then: ”Daffy Daffy duck eating apple pie. He sat on a rock and he cried because it hurt his butt! You’re it!”

This last bit was directed to my nine-year-old, who accepted the mantle of “It.”

And they were off.

I sit on the bench and watch them run, their matching golden manes glinting in the sun. Their feet – big and little – pounding the pavement hard. Their arms pumping.

“I’m gonna get you!” my daughter, “It,” shrieks, panting
and laughing.

“Ahhhhhh!” shriek the others, looking over the shoulders, a thrilled grin stretching taut the muscles of their mouths.

They laugh as they run. And I laugh too, from a vicarious exhilaration. They’re alive and ignited and just so free.

And also because they’ll sleep come nighttime.

Nicole C. Kear is the author of the memoir Now I See You (St. Martin’s Press, 2014). Her chapter book series for children, The Fix-It Friends, will be published by Macmillan Kids’ Imprint in spring 2017.

Filed Under: Dispatches From Babyville Tagged With: Babyville, bookworm, childhood, dispatches, fitness, Nicole Kear, tag

Part of the Solution: Spoke the Hub

October 14, 2012 By Nancy Lippincott Filed Under: Community Spirit Tagged With: back problems, chair yoga, fitness, movement, Park Slope, Spoke the Hub, yoga

It’s Friday morning yoga, and my fellow classmates and I are congregating in the waiting room at Spoke the Hub.  The toddler dance class before us lets out, and for a few chaotic moments, we are overtaken by a swarm of excited 3-year-olds that seem to swim through us in the mosaic-tiled fishbowl.

Dolores, our instructor, motions us into the multi-purpose studio space.  The setting isn’t quite what you would expect from your typical yoga class — there are no mats, my classmates are mostly over 40, and we are all seated on folding chairs.  We’re all here to participate in the gentle, restorative practice of Chair Yoga.  It’s just one of the classes in Spoke the Hub’s “Move for Life” program, an initiative designed to get everyone, regardless of age or fitness level, acquainted with an active lifestyle.

There are currently over 20 yoga studios in Park Slope alone, but decades before downward dog and ashtanga became part of the American vernacular, Elise Long was here, a pioneer exploring a frontier devoid of gyrotonics and morning vinyassa. Despite the constant stream of new fitness trends and health fads, Long’s message has been simple and consistent throughout — move your body.

Long first came to New York in the 1970s after college and began her professional career under the guidance of the renowned Irmgard Bartenief.  She started off in the no man’s land between Avenue A and B on the Lower East Side until she was invited to visit Park Slope by some friends who would soon become her business partners. “I said okay, let’s do the calculation here.  I’m paying for this shithole, and I’m scared, and no one will come visit me.  Or I could pay 50 cents to take a subway ride and live in a mansion by a park.  Okay, I’m gone!”

From there, a movement for movement was born.  Long and her partners set up shop in a loft space in the former Polish Social Club building.  By 1985, they found their permanent home in the Gowanus Arts Building, a 15,000-square-foot “artist’s habitat” on Douglass Street, and in 1995, they expanded to a second location on Union Street.

In the Park Slope of 1979, there was only one other studio offering the traditional spread of dance lessons.  Long’s new collective in Gowanus would teach more than just tap dancing.  It would serve as a conduit of creative energy to the local community, and in fact, that is where the name Spoke the Hub originated. “This is your hub.” She points to her core then stretches out her arms. “These are the spokes, and it’s about exchange from the inner to the outer.”

When Long interacts with her students, she’s teaching lessons that go beyond choreography.  The same enthusiasm and seemingly infinite reserve of energy displayed by Long is reflected in the expressiveness of her young protégées.  “I feel like the people who move regularly, they find joy in movement.  They don’t do it just because they want to be thin.  They do it because it brings them joy, and they keep it up because it’s an important part of their lives. They are the most vibrant people around at any age.”

Here in stroller central, there is an obvious market for children’s classes, but Long suspects the people in most need of her resources are the adults.  “Who doesn’t have back problems these days?  Everyone has back problems now, and it’s because of this —” She points to the giant iMac on her desk and knowingly glares over at me with raised eyebrows and a toothy smile.

I become aware of my slumped posture.  She’s right.  How many hours have we all spent literally hunched over our laptops?  According to a 2011 study, 80 percent of us are desk-bound throughout the day.  “At a certain point, my Type-A, big-brained, white-collar men need to move!  It’s not just for gym rats, it’s the white-collar, academic businessmen with high-stress jobs.  This population needs fitness help, but often they are embarrassed.  You should see them come in [she mimics someone with arms crossed and shoulders up to their ears].  Eventually we have them dancing.”

This morning’s chair yoga class was (thankfully) far from a Wall Street hoedown, but the message was the same.  Even if we are stuck at our desks for the majority of the day, there are still ways to engage our bodies that don’t involve complicated poses or reaching our target heart rates.

Perhaps this is the greatest strength of Long and her talented team — bringing movement to the lives of the habitually sedentary in a trusting, nonjudgmental environment … maybe with some good-intentioned teasing.  Long has recognized the need for movement in everyone’s life, no matter their age, weight, or gender.  She adamantly believes the benefits of an active life extend beyond the physical. “I think when you are more active, you get more fearless, you have more courage to try things.”

Starting this fall, Spoke the Hub will be offering classes tailored specifically to the needs of all of us sequestered to our seated lives in front of the computer. The program will include something for everyone, be it prenatal yoga to low-intensity dance classes for seniors, as Elise quips, “As long as you’re not on a gurney we can get you moving.”

Spoke the Hub’s Fall Session runs from September 10 until February 3.  For details on class schedules and locations, visit www.spokethehub.org

Filed Under: Community Spirit Tagged With: back problems, chair yoga, fitness, movement, Park Slope, Spoke the Hub, yoga

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