On Good Form

When I was a little girl, my manners were so horrible that my mother signed me up for an etiquette class. I'm sure at the time I thought it was supposed to be a modeling class, but no--it was Manners 101 at the Dillard's. For six weeks I would show up on a Saturday morning and learn about how to eat like a respectable human at a table, or how to properly bend to pick up something if I accidentally dropped it for the 900th time, and how to sit upright in a chair as if God actually did bless me with a spine.

One of the lessons we learned was how to walk down a flight of stairs. I remember my ten-year-old self---which at the time had already had four broken bones and had one round of stitches on my chin---listen to the instructor tell me that I was supposed to use that blessed spine again to stand up straight, place one hand lightly on the banister, and keep my head up while descending the staircase. Again, five emergency room visits into my short life, I was told that I was not supposed to watch what my crazy feet were doing, but rather look out in front of me.

It didn't make any sense. How could there possibly be a safer method to go downstairs than to look down at your feet to make sure you were taking the right steps? How could looking in front of you, and not at what you were doing, keep you upright?

I was baffled, I was convinced that the "modeling teacher" was wrong, and I'm pretty sure I discarded everything else that lady told me afterwards. (Sorry Mom.)

Fast forward with me a couple decades into the future, though...
(one more broken bone and a major knee surgery later...Sorry again, Mom...)

And change the etiquette lesson to a fitness class.

I am listening to the coach give the cues for a strong plank position: "Back straight, arms as your balance, eyes not looking down, but out in front." Immediately I am transported back to that same argument I had as a young girl on a staircase.
"But I need to look down, because I want to see what I'm doing."

The reason you keep your gaze out in front of you during a plank is because it helps keep your spine aligned. If you are bending your neck look at your core, you are compromising balance, effectiveness, and form. That good form is what activates and works all the right muscles and keeps you from overextending or injuring yourself. That good form is what eventually brings about visible change.


I don't know about you, but I have a hard time remembering to look out in front of me. Most of the time I check myself because I just want to be sure I'm doing it right before moving forward. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that sometimes I'm just overly concerned with "how it all looks." There are so many moments where I end up straining myself, all because I want to make sure I am lined up--and presenting-- *just so.*
And while checking in on ourselves can indeed be a good thing, good form is about so much more than just focusing on yourself.

It's about looking ahead to where you're going.
It's about noticing the things that are right in front of your face.
It's about trusting in your footing enough to keep your head up.

Sometimes it's about missing a step, and maintaining your balance enough to recover.
(And as a person that has fallen down a flight of stairs in the last 48 hours, I can tell you that your recovery is important--Ha!)

And always, it's about trusting the person who told you to look up.

"Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 3:13-14 ESV)

Chin up, friends. Eyes on the prize.