If you are reading this blog, you are probably a student and/or teacher in one or several movement practices. Yoga, Pilates, football, functional movement, and so on; today, there are more forms (or disciplines) of movement practices available to the average city dweller than ever before. Taking-up a movement practice is a long-term (sometimes expensive) commitment, and a decision that will affect your physical, mental and social well-being. Indeed, a practice becomes part of a practitioner’s sense of personhood.
My relationship with movement is not only practical but also analytical. As a sociologist, I am interested in philosophical, historical, political, practical and scientific research/writing about movement. In Part One of this blog post, I will share with you a simple tool for thinking analytically about movement practices. The purpose of this tool is to help you understand the range of movement disciplines, the reasons that particular disciplines are organized the way they are, and how to orient yourself within your own movement practices.
In Part Two of the blog (coming soon!), I will use the tool to think about “functional movement.” Although this term has been around for at least two decades, it is often used in different, sometimes contradictory ways. Using this tool to sharpen my analytical understanding of functional movement has improved my practice. I am more motivated, I ask the coaches better questions, and my practice is more focused and deliberate.
One point of clarification: This tool is not for analyzing the actual movements of a practice but rather the practices themselves. For example, if we used the tool to think about yoga or Olympic Lifting, we would not be looking at downward dogs and power cleans. Instead, we would look at overarching principles, scope of effects, and direction of intent. The tool puts the practices in the spotlight, not their movements.
Tool for Understanding Movement Practices:
This tool is based on the work of eminent philosopher, Richard Shusterman. Shusterman writes about bodily practices in general rather than movement practices in particular (Shusterman, 2008, 2012). Although many of the bodily practices he considers are movement-based, his framework can also be used to analyze a variety of non-movement practices, such as body modification (ex. tattooing), dieting (ex. Weight Watchers), meditation (ex. Zen) and medicine (ex. recreational drugs). Following Shusterman, I am thinking about movement practices as a sub-category of bodily practices. This changes the type of questions we can and should be asking about movement practices.Most importantly, we should think about movement practices in terms of bodily effects. How does a movement practice effect (or change) the body? What kind of bodily effects does a practice create? What is the scope of the effects? Is the practice intended to effect one’s own body, another person’s body, or both? To understand movement practices, think about their effect on the body.
The three diagrams below help you consider a movement practice in terms of bodily effects. The first allows you to categorize the type of effects a practice produces. The second identifies the scope of effects. And the third diagram asks if a practice is self-directed, other-directed or both.
Type of Bodily Effects
The three types of bodily effects are that
practices aim to produce are 1) experiential, 2) aesthetic and 3) performative.
These effect-types are not mutually exclusive.
Usually, one type of bodily
effect is necessarily involves another. Even though most movement-based practices
produce effects in all three categories, often one or a pair of effect-types best
characterize a practice.Experiential changes to the body:
Experiential movement practices effect the conscious, sensuous and endocrinous aspects of life. Meditation, Tai Chi or yoga are good examples of experiential practices. Although some people meditate or stretch in order to increase their ability to perform, and many people practice yoga to change the appearance of their body, these practices are generally understood as means for mindfulness, mood-alteration and composure.
Aesthetic changes to the body:
The purpose of aesthetics practices is to effect the appearance of the body. Body building is a perfect example of an aesthetic movement practice. Although expert-level body builders often develop both a deeper appreciation for the experiential aspects of the practice (ex. muscle pump), and a heightened ability to perform (ex. lifting heavy weights), the defining effects of body building are aesthetic rather than experiential or performative.
Performative changes to the body:
Performative movement practices effect the body’s capacity to perform. Most competitive sports exemplify practices that effect bodily performance. Olympic lifters, sprinters, Crossfitters and skiers are all trying to improve their bodily capacity for strength, speed, power, endurance and/or skill. There are many examples of sports that also produce experiential and aesthetic effects. Some would say that motorcycle racing and surfing are more experiential than performative, and figure skating and surfing (again) are arguably driven more by aesthetics. Still, in the world of competitive sports, the prevailing winds blow towards performance. At least on the surface of things.
Scope of Bodily Effects:
The scope of bodily effects is represented by a spectrum ranging from more (or less) holistic or atomistic.
As a means to effect bodily change, movement practices necessarily draw boundaries through or around the body or bodies they effect. Some practices imagine this boundary to be skin, and they effect changes only within the skin. Other practices imagine the body to extend beyond the skin, into the world. The body of a footballer, for example, includes helmets, pads, cleats and gloves. In human/animal sports, such as agility dog and horse racing, research shows that the best athletes have the ability to harmonize their body with that of their other-species teammate (Haraway, 2007). The wider the boundary around the body/bodies a practice is intended to effect, the more a practice can be called holistic.
In contrast, practices that effect the body by dividing it into constitutive parts are more atomistic. Body building provides a perfect example. To build muscle mass, the best approach is to divide the body into increasingly smaller parts. If hypertrophy is the goal, isolated exercises (ex. bicep curl) are usually more effective than compound movements (ex. squat). Similarly, training practices for running have traditionally been directed at the cardiovascular system, ignoring skill-development, proprioception, mobility, body awareness, etc. (for more holistic approaches training in running, cycling and swimming, see MacKenzie, 2012). Atomistic movement practices are ones that seemingly cannot be practiced without affecting the body as a collection of parts, systems or capacities.
Note: It is important not to equate atomistic practices with practices that are more specialized, and holistic practices with less specialization. For example, practitioners of Qigong are much more holistic in their training than mixed martial artists (MMA), even though MMA is much less specialized form of practice. Similarly, Crossfit, which “specializes in not specializing,” is arguably more atomistic in its approach to effecting the body than most sports. To be competitive in today’s Crossfit Games, an athlete does not have the time to train reflexes, develop problem solving skills, improve decision making, or be concerned with many experiential or aesthetic bodily effects.
Direction of Intended Effects:
Lastly, movement practices are intended to effect change in one’s own body, the body of others, or both.
All movement practices necessarily effect change in one’s own body but some explicitly intend to effect the body or bodies of others. Massage, for example, is usually practiced on another person’s body with the goal of releasing their muscle tension, increasing their blood flow, and stimulating the release of their endorphins and serotonin. Erotic practices, in contrast, are often about effecting someone else’s body while simultaneously effecting your own. Practitioners of MMA train their bodies to more efficiently affect their opponent’s body, either rendering them unconscious or causing them enough bodily pain to force submission. In some ways, this final way of categorizing movement practices is the easiest to understand. The direction of intent seems very clear. My own experiences in sport, however, have caused me to question the simplicity of the self / other / self-other categories.
All movement practices necessarily effect change in one’s own body but some explicitly intend to effect the body or bodies of others. Massage, for example, is usually practiced on another person’s body with the goal of releasing their muscle tension, increasing their blood flow, and stimulating the release of their endorphins and serotonin. Erotic practices, in contrast, are often about effecting someone else’s body while simultaneously effecting your own. Practitioners of MMA train their bodies to more efficiently affect their opponent’s body, either rendering them unconscious or causing them enough bodily pain to force submission. In some ways, this final way of categorizing movement practices is the easiest to understand. The direction of intent seems very clear. My own experiences in sport, however, have caused me to question the simplicity of the self / other / self-other categories.
As a ski coach, I found it more difficult to train athletes if I was not myself involved in some kind of training. Somehow, my ability to help others actively train their bodies improved when I was also actively training my own, in skiing or any other practice. Therapist have told me that their ability to help others heal requires that they vigilantly maintain their own bodies. The matter is complicated further if we account for the communicative function of movement practices. For example, most historical accounts of body building, which appears to be a self-directed practice, show how important both photographic portraits and pageants were to the evolution of the practice. In other words, the effect that body building has on its viewers is necessarily part of the practice.
I suspect that self-directed movement practices depend on the cultivation of other-directed skills and vice-versa. This could be the topic of another blog post.
Trying to Understand Functional Movement as Practice:
Generally speaking, the purpose of functional movement is “prehabilitation.” In Part Two of this blog, I ask if prehabilitation is best categorized as experiential, performative or aesthetic in terms of its effects on the body? I also inquire about the scope of functional fitness, on a spectrum from more/less holistic/atomistic? And finally, I ask if there are ways in which practitioners of functional movement (that have no interest in becoming trainers or instructors) can or should think about their practices as effecting the bodies of others?
If anything, this tool has helped me realized that things are not necessarily as they seem.
References:
Haraway, D. (2007). When Species Meet. Univ. of Minnesota Press.
MacKenzie, B. (2012). Power Speed ENDURANCE: A Skill-Based Appraoch to Endurance Training. Victory Belt Publishing.
Shusterman, R. (2009). Body Consciousness: A Philosophy of Mindfulness and Somaesthetics. Cambridge UP.
Shusterman, R. (2012). Thinking through the Body: Essays in Somaesthetics. Cambridge UP.
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