Celebrating "No"

My client Belinda* was having a hard time getting into the exercises I had programmed.

I had selected several resistance band

exercises for Belinda, targeting some key areas in her core and back. I programmed them in as "activation" exercises, which means that they were designed to wake up Belinda's muscles that tended to be under-active, with the intention to follow with a heavier, strength building exercise.

But today, Belinda really wasn't feeling it. In general, resistance band work is not Belinda's favorite. And, despite my coaching, Belinda could not "feel" any effect of the resistance band rows. "I just don't feel anything," "they're not effective," she said.

She was saying, "no." My initial response, conditioned by decades of gender socialization, is to fix it immediately. Figure out why she doesn't feel it, show her how to do it more effectively, uncover the problem, work with her until she feels it.

But, I've been reading Lifting Heavy Things: Healing Trauma One Rep At A Time by Laura Koudari, and had just finished the chapter on boundaries in personal training. She points out that one way personal trainers can support client's healing and training is to not always dig on reasons for boundaries. Kourdari is a trauma-informed personal trainer and she writes about and speaks about trauma, including her own, all the time. But she does not share details about her trauma; she does not request details about a clients' trauma. Instead she makes space for the client to become embodied--to be fully present, in-tune to their body, and this takes feeling like your boundaries are okay. Once that self of self is more secured, healing--and strength training--are safer and more effective. It's a really interesting connection!

I remembered that Belinda had mentioned not liking the rows and pull downs with the resistance bands before, but the protests were quiet. I had logged them mentally, but encouraged her to continue, making minor adjustments, and trying to coach her better. But, today, her frustrations were multiplying. She was being asked to do something she didn't want to do, and she couldn't make her do it "right" to feel it. "I believe you [about the exercise], but I don't like it, I don't feel it, I don't know why."

Having just listened to that chapter on boundaries, I said: "Well, maybe we don't need to figure out why. We can just not do those again, cut those exercises out."

Belinda interjected that she could "keep trying," but I explained it was unnecessary and there was nothing wrong. Yes, we still have to work on lats and core strength. And, yes, bands are great, especially for those deep stabilizing muscles, but we can find other exercises to do the same or similar activation.

She seemed a bit relieved, and we moved on to her final set of exercises on the ground. Belinda liked these exercises better, even though they were tough. In fact, she often would do a couple extra reps of body weight core work (e.g., sit-ups, push-ups, hip bridges, etc.). I sat and counted out her reps, lightly "coaching" once and a while, but mostly quiet, through this last set of exercises. Belinda was quiet too, but during the last set up push-ups she started talking randomly about work. Her voice was loud and strong, despite doing the exercise, as she explained unwanted assignments at work. She wrapped up, sat back, sweaty hair caught across her face, and talked about not being able to get to projects she wanted to do.

I didn't understand the details of what she was talking about. Names of places and jobs and programs that have no knowledge of, and Belinda knows that. She was just saying it out loud.

"That is a lot. I'm sorry you have to do that project at work," I said. But you did awesome on those push-ups. Do you feel a bit better?"

She paused for a moment, took a deep breath, exhaled. Her face lit up as she smiled and said, "yes."

"Awesome," I said. Inside I was also celebrating myself for not pushing Belinda, for carving a space to not do an activity and say "no," without further interrogation or explanation. Sure, the exercise makes sense, is standard, and she really is doing it "right," but it doesn't feel right to Belinda. And I don't need to know why to work with her. I can find other exercises to get the work done that she does find pleasurable, that feel "right" in her body.

*Names are changed and details creatively altered to protect confidentiality.

It's Okay To Say No