What I Miss About Tracy

I no longer spend $30 a month to receive her poorly edited and repetitive videos but I still lurk around her fan/and ex fan websites. When I get a promotional email (also poorly edited) I get a little rush. Will I finally go to ViTAlity Week? Spend $900 for three days of workouts and lectures? I’m not going to lie, I kind of want to. But I can’t–and it is not just because of the crazy amount of money this woman wants from me. It is because flapping your arms around with 2lb weights mostly just irritates your shoulders. It took me a good two years of Pilates to heal the shoulder wounds of flapping. And now that I have, I can’t stare into Tracy’s blank but soothingly-blue eyes and “follow her moves.”

But this is still probably one of my top 10 life moments:

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And I miss things about her that nobody else seems to fulfill. Even as legions of her ex-trainers start their own classes in NYC (all of which I attend through the proletarian’s answer to NYC’s obscene fitness culture).

Here is what I miss about Tracy:

If you actually don’t care what you look like (or what muscles you are “working”) Tracy-style wiggling is un-paralled fun. So much fitness follows this hyper-rationalized form where you have to move in a very narrow way (because science). But not with Tracy. Wiggle your butt, “slide” you torso back and forth, pretend you are high-fiving a million little angels. And do it all to some Tracy-approved jams (TSwift, JLo). This form of movement is liberating because it is kind of silly but infused with command to “own it,” and I wish there was more fitness culture that embraced the idea that looking hot in your mind’s eye-is just as important as isolating particular muscles.

 

-D of course (C. doesn’t waste her time with this kind of crap)

 

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