“If you cannot be vulnerable in your training, you cannot reach your potential.”

This week’s blog is inspired by an Instagram post by one of my favorite gyms-that-I’ve-never-been-to, 13th Flow in Chicago. I’m not sure how I had the luck to find and start following them a few years ago, but their consistent messages of positive empowerment are a bright spot of inspiration in my feed. Let me give you an example of their verbiage: their “About” page on their website says, ” Success isn’t built on shame and guilt, but on self-worth and pride in what you’re doing. You already possess everything you need to be who and what you want to be.” YES TO ALL OF THIS!

Yesterday’s post from 13th Flow included a sentence that really hit me hard:

“If you cannot be vulnerable in your training, you cannot reach your potential."

To be vulnerable means that we put ourselves at risk; we leave ourselves exposed, defenseless. To be vulnerable in our training– whether that’s in the gym, a group exercise class, or a yoga studio– means that we can be ourselves in utter honesty and authenticity. We can confess our inability to complete a rep or do a pose without pain. We can say, “that hurts,” or, “I can’t do it like that,” or “I don’t think that’s right for me today.” This truth is what helps us to find the right expression of a pose, or the right amount of weight, or the lateralization (not “modification”) of an exercise that will allow us to get stronger on our own terms in a safe and healthy way. Not only is it the only healthy and sane way to train, it’s the only sustainable way to train.

But to be vulnerable in our training means that we are undefended and open. Even as a white, able-bodied, cis-gendered human, it is often difficult for me to find an atmosphere that is so accepting, open and accessible that it allows me to feel comfortable in my own vulnerability. And that’s pretty sad.

Our fitness/wellness/health community often gives lip service to the idea of inclusivity and accessibility without actually providing accessible options or a truly welcoming atmosphere. A few of those reasons are lack of diversity in trainers/staff (“there’s nobody here who looks like me,”); diet or weight loss talk that puts a greater perceived value on certain types of bodies; a lack of training in staff around unconscious bias or how to serve diverse populations. Access to services may be restricted financially or literally (not being accessible for wheelchairs, for example).