Weightlifting has the same resonance, for me, as the ballet bar. Dancers spend literally years of their lives bending at the knee and standing back up again. It's a simple movement, but to do it proficiently, consistently, not to mention beautifully, takes years, and the practice really never stops. You're not really perfecting a series of repetitive movements, you're building a foundation, a core of muscle memory that will keep you going when your own will alone isn't strong enough. As a younger person, I didn't get this. I hated doing scales and arpeggios in music, or marching "basic block" in drum corps for what felt like hours: I couldn't see it's value. I just wanted to practice what I had to learn for the next performance, and get on with it.
Now that I'm older, and I have acquired at least SOME patience, if not with myself then with repetitive tasks, I've come to realize that the basics, are where it's at. This is, in part, because I've learned the value of improvement through repetition, and in a less concrete way, nostalgia. When I look back at my time in dance, theater, music, or drum corps, there may be a handful of performances I remember in any detail, but it's being in rehearsal with my friends that is clearest in my mind. It isn't just the weirdos - an extreme compliment - that I met in dance classes, gymnasiums, or rehearsal halls that I miss, it's the feeling you get from having tried and failed over and over again, before you finally gett it. It's the feeling you get when you hear your instructor say, "well done, do it again." It's not the crowds or applause that carry you through your life, it's the confidence you build, bit by excruciating bit, by experiencing adversity and, finally, exceeding your own expectations. Over time, I've become extremely process oriented. I think this happens naturally as we mature.
These days I have to tell myself, well done, do it again, (sometimes just for getting through the day) but I've never stopped needing that rush of achievement you get when you finally "nail it." And yes, there is considerably more grunting involved in weight lifting, but the controlled strength, balance and flexibility are the same. There is a rhythm, a groove, a pocket - call it what you want - that your breathing and movement must slip into if your going to do your best set, and most of them are not going to be your "best set." This approach pays as much attention to how well your lifting, as it does how much you can lift. I am always happy to sacrifice the latter, to ensure good form.
The other, not to be under estimated, similarity between working out and ballet, is it's power to over-ride our natural compulsion of comparison. Sure, Giselle over there might be able to effortlessly wrap her leg around her head, while holding an eternal releve, and reciting her favorite sonnet. You may never have her extension, endurance, or body line, all of which are determined by genetics. However; when the music starts, and you take your place at the bar, the only things that matter are you, your body, your physical limitations. That's it, that's all you've got time for, or you're going to end up on your ass. The same thing happens at the gym, you cannot focus your attention on others and successfully do the physical and mental work required to lift weights. You can't, for that matter, afford to focus on your own problems and stress outside the gym. You have to inhabit your body and pay attention to the movement, and the messages your muscles are sending back to you, in a loop. In that way, it is as much a mindfulness exercise, as it is a physical one.
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