Feelings on My Lululemon Sleeve
I like a good old-fashioned goal–not an intention-setting or even SMART goal process that is clogging your productivity journals about now. Like many, being healthier is a priority for this year. I have been able to justify my athleisure purchases as material motivation. But that’s only the partial truth. Woven in the seams of my $58 Lululemon tank is the true motivation: “Run for Ice Cream”.
I tell myself that my fitness routine is purely self-care… to relieve anxiety and boost concentration. Being a high school teacher in Philadelphia aids my argument and justifies its priority in my schedule. By most standards, I am pretty fit. Until the pandemic, I’d run and lift four times a week — I’d even lap swim here and there. Now, I do intensive power yoga a few nights a week and chase after my hyper-active goldendoodle on the off-days. I stay at an even 128 of muscle and have been known to carry two pairs of athletic shoes around, one for running and another, for lifting. But underlying the layers of moisture-wicking nylon, there is a truth I can’t evade… that the fundamental purpose of exercise is to eliminate calories from my food intake. Not long ago, I was reminded of this truth when inspecting a Run Swiftly tank from circa 2016-Lululemon. Woven at the waistband, read my subconscious motivation… “Run for Ice Cream”.
In the last five years, the fitness industry has changed — mannequins are size inclusive and 3” inseam running shorts range from 0 to 20. Store banners seem to come right out of James Clear’s “Atomic Habits” — “practice in action leads to a satisfying life”. Gone are the days when a manufacturer can weave reminders of a food’s calorie count… “Run for Beer” or “Run for Cheese” as other shirts remind purchasers. The fitness industry seems to have changed, but have our fitness motivations ideologically changed with it? In “Let’s Get Physical”, Danielle Friedman notes, “When women first started exercising en masse, they were participating in something subversive: the cultivation of physical strength and autonomy.” That has since become entangled in the diet culture and unrealistic beauty standards of this age.
As I tackled my laundry, I came across modern motivation messaging from Lululemon — recent buys told me to “crush the distance” and “keep balanced”. In power yoga, my constant distraction isn’t my core trembling or the propensity of my right ankle to give out. My distraction is my Instill pants — whether they hit at the right place on my hip to pull in my winter side handles. More often than not, my distraction is why my mat neighbor is able to pull off the Align tank while my D-cup boobs seem to fall out the side. In her memoir “Hunger”, Roxanne Gay reflects, “This is what most girls are taught — that we should be slender and small. We should not take up space. We should be seen and not heard, and if we are seen, we should be pleasing to men, acceptable to society.” As women, we know this to be all too true. Our worth and oftentimes our access to opportunities is dependent on our physical appearance at the door. Body positivity programming does not change that reality.
Branding shifts with reminders to exude “radiant positivity” have not changed the impetus for my hours of fitness. My motives for exercise and over-priced work-out gear remain the same as it did a decade ago when I was saving up every penny during college to invest in a new nylon sweatshirt… the same year that Chip Wilson, founder of Lululemon said on Bloomberg TV’s “Street Smart”, “some women’s bodies just don’t actually work [for the yoga pants]. . . It’s more really about the rubbing through the thighs, how much pressure is there over a period of time, how much they use it.” I work-out to have the body that comfortably fits the Lululemon and in some perverse way, embody the beauty standards that the brand and lifestyle fundamentally embody. When I go to the gym I am not there to “make better decisions… be at peace with [myself], and off-set stress” as the brand’s iconic recyclable bag suggests, I go to the gym to stay in a size 6 Lululemon.
This is probably not the article that body positivity activists are pining to read–I am not advocating my constructions of beauty (thanks mom). I am messy and carry implicit assumptions about my body and worth that are by no means commendable. Instead, I am advocating that we must be forthright with ourselves about our own motivations for well-being and fitness. Deep wellness and wholeness come from when we are forthright about the standards and motivations that inform our lifestyles. I am reminded of Brene Brown’s observation, “Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.”
Perhaps we do run for ice cream, perhaps we do run for burgers, perhaps we do run to stay in a size 6. I am now clear on those points, which is some growth. Maybe in the next few counseling sessions, I will see more. Until then, I’ll be continuing to purchase hundred-dollar leggings to stay in them. (Maybe even buy the new Lululemon sneakers). And I’ll eat ice cream and wear an honest reminder on my sleeve. That’s a start.
