October 2021 Issue 7
After Athletics: Finding Pole Post-Sports
Many people identify as athletes. Competing in any level of sports, from high school to collegiate and beyond. However, what choice do we have when we leave team sports behind? Pole dance is now being recognized as a bona fide sport, and its popularity with ex-athletes is skyrocketing.
Pole Power
Pole dance fitness is underutilized as a form of research, and when it is, it can be limited by repeated narratives. Beyond the scope of Instagram posts lies a collection of literature that all say the same thing: pole dance is good for us.
Those who do pole dancing embrace a form of strength that can be validating and beneficial post sports. In the multi-authored work “Mainstreaming Sex,” the discussion of a type of awakening occurs when women, (and now, men and beyond) begin pole dancing. It states that taking ownership of something that might seem difficult to access is empowering.
Another focal point of pole dancing is autonomy. While there are signature moves and styles, they are not rigid in execution. In a study done at the University of Western Australia, participants talked about the freedom of pole dancing, and how it allowed them to modify existing moves and combinations to fit their bodies. Having the agency to adjust a process, and make it both effective and enjoyable, is another form of power that pole dancers reap the benefits of.
The industry continues to transform, and one of the most serendipitous aspects of pole dance today is that is no limit to the variety of backgrounds for its participants. This wasn’t true only decades ago when recreational pole dance wasn’t available to the public. I’m a happy beneficiary of this inclusion, but it didn’t start out that way.
My journey
Playing a school sport was always a rule in my house. However, engaging in them never gave me a sense of fulfillment. To me, athletics was merely a workout. While I enjoyed the physical aspects of it, the politics of team sports and brutal competition, in addition to the social scene, did nothing for my already low teenage confidence.
My sport of choice was volleyball. Despite my made-for-sports height, I was awkward and had more of a penance for art, which made it difficult to ‘fit in’ with the girls on my team. I was often the brunt of jokes and teasing, with some of my teammates even going so far as to steal my clothes while I was showering. Above all else, I hated the cutthroat competitive attitude I was expected to uphold, and the constant emotional berating endured in between games.
My real passion was writing. I found more solace in the school newsroom than I did on the court. While the journalism class was my second family, the 2 AM doughnut shop trips and excessive snacking canceled out the work put in during hours of training. This cycle of dissatisfaction continued well into my college years, and would have lasted farther, had pole dancing not saved me.
The Grind
Pole dancing found me in my best friend’s living room. She had a pole set up in her house and we spent hours practicing, trying tricks and spins we found online, and laughing at each other’s failed attempts at the tricks we were working on. It was the push I needed to get back into a gym and try my hand at something completely different. Figuring that my previous strength from sports would catapult me to an advanced level overnight, I joined a studio in Southern California and attended classes with gusto.
However, moving beyond the novice level wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped. Instead, my shoulders and hips, both severely strained from volleyball, fought me on every move. I couldn’t do anything in heels, much less invert, and splits were out of the question. For any move I mastered, six more would present themselves, and I found myself getting discouraged.
I couldn’t understand why other dancers could move so easily, and with such grace! Women and men twenty years my senior would fall into the splits, while I continued to struggle with high kicks. This was especially difficult when I trained in Korea, as the women are naturally flexible, and can bend and twist into impossible positions. Slowly, those poisonous feelings of inadequacy started to creep back in, clouding my training regimen with dark thoughts.
I regressed into the same competitive mindset I’d always hated. I pushed myself, working as hard as I could to climb higher and do more tricks than everyone else. When I wasn’t satisfied, I would leave early, cranky and upset that my skills weren’t surpassing others. It was a vicious cycle, and that Draconian training schedule backfired spectacularly: I ended up developing sciatica and was forced to take a month off.
Letting Go
At first, not dancing was pure torture. Since the pain was too great to move, I tried something new: letting go. Instantly, my training game changed.
After weeks of rest, my joints felt better than they had in months and upon returning, I let myself train without worrying about my progress, or rank in the class. I realized that the stress of trying to outdo everyone had been holding me back, and at best, had been constricting my muscles and cutting me off from potential progress.
Letting go opened new doors for me to explore. I began attending flow classes and learning choreography, and now my memory bank has increased to house dozens of new moves and combos. I stopped seeing my fellow dancers as competition, and let them in, as a means of making friends. The community I never knew I was looking for then became my family.
Still, those feelings of inadequacy rear their ugly heads at times. However, instead of retreating into myself and working harder, I’ve learned to lean on those around me and ask questions. This vulnerability has provided strength and of course, answers, which has also acted as a catalyst for my success.
Being an athletic artist has led to me writing about pole dancing, which is a career path I never considered but embrace wholeheartedly. My blog, Poletrotters, celebrates this awakening and the international community of pole that has given me so much. Having this outlet to use as physical fitness, art, and a business is a delight and one that I am excited to engage with every single day.
Sources:
https://researchrepository.murdoch.edu.au/id/eprint/6214/1/Donaghue_Kurz_Whitehead_2011b.pdf