The Corset Reconsidered

Several months ago I had the wild idea to wear a corset. Prompted by feeling lumpish and then spurred on by the hope of lofty insights and a potential waistline, I did indeed wear a corset for a month.

This wasn’t the first time I’ve done something with full assurance that it was perfectly reasonable, perhaps even brilliant, only to later find myself mystified if not mortified by my earlier enthusiasm and certitude.

I can’t even bring myself to go back and read the corset posts; doing so might cause me to delete the entire blog and swear off writing forever.

So, why do I bring it up? Because I did learn something from my corset that relates to my latest phase, which I hope isn’t really a phase, but with me one never knows. I won’t ask my friends and family if they think this is just my latest fad because I hate hearing “Duh!” It’s my earnest desire that this isn’t like that, but a solid and lasting new direction.

My husband had been prodding me to exercise because he has been working out and loving it. I had a month off from work, an eager partner in my daughter Natalie, and Jupiter must have been aligned with Mars, so, for the past 6 weeks I’ve exercised more and harder than I have in many, many years.

A corset will not make you fit. It will not keep you from overeating. (My research showed that some personality types actually eat more because of the discomfort, actually growling at the corset as they consume cookies and snacks they don’t even want just out of spite. “This blasted thing isn’t going to stop me from eating!!”)

The problem with the corset is that it was on the outside pressing in. Like laws and rules, it was a reminder. But in the same way that speed signs don’t stop speeders, the corset didn’t accomplish anything internal, intrinsic. For me, it was a gimmick, a diversion, and as such, destined to fail.

Ah, but exercise! Hearty, blood-pumping, sweaty exercise that demands much of long-unused muscles. Focused work on stretching, strengthening. Coaching by trained leaders who call forth that extra push you didn’t know you had. The comraderie of working out with a group, of doing more than you’d ever do alone. Kick-boxing next to a 70 year old man. Cycling with middle-aged women with thick middles who are giving it all they can.

The instructors keep talking about “The Core”, the very area of my body the corset was supposed to help. But, of course, pressure from the outside doesn’t strengthen muscles. Nor does it help much to just try to practice good posture. Although I’d remind myself time and again to hold my stomach in, sit up straight, I could never keep it up. My natural physical state was simply not strong enough.

In this, too, I see analogies to life. Practicing good posture apart from making the muscles strong by hard work is superficial. It’s easier to wash the outside of the cup, to make a few adjustments so we appear a certain way, but like rouge on the wrinkled skin of an old lady, the attempts to change something externally can't belie the inner reality.

And so, after these weeks of concerted effort to “make my arms strong” (Prov. 31), by Cycling, Pilates, Yoga, and Kick-boxing, I’m delighted with how my mind and body are being challenged and in the rapid improvement I’ve seen.

I attribute my success to three things: First, this 50 year old body can do much more than I knew. God has created muscles that respond to work, and I’ve been amazed at how “fearfully and wonderfully made” our bodies really are.

Second, I know that I wouldn’t have this momentum, wouldn’t have improved so quickly, if I hadn’t jumped into this full force, exercising at least 5 times a week for the first month. Soldiers need boot camp. Smokers need to quit cold turkey. People are more likely to succeed when doing something really hard as opposed to just dabbling. I always made my highest grades in my toughest classes.

Third, being in classes with other people at varying fitness levels, led by excellent instructors, has helped me work harder and better than I ever would alone. It’s axiomatic. It’s Biblical. It works.