Is real balance forgotten?

Movement has found its way into the rabbit hole of data, numbers, looks and performance. Somewhere along the way, moving your body became less about movement itself and more about what movement can give you. A stronger body. Better sleep. A lower heart rate. More muscle. Better health. A better-looking body. A better version of yourself.

When running through the streets of Amsterdam, you’ll certainly find people wearing gear that is expensive, exclusive and, in some cases, simply not needed. I believe an outfit can be important. Feeling good in what you wear can change the way you move, and if someone enjoys collecting the newest shoes or finding the perfect running kit, I applaud it. There is nothing wrong with that.

But sometimes I wonder when the clothes, the data and the performance became part of the movement itself.

I want to go back to running and movement a few years ago. Movement before the new way. Before every activity had to have a purpose, a number attached to it, or a place on a schedule.

Today, we can find all kinds of movement throughout a city like Amsterdam. Rowing, cycling, Pilates on a boat, heated rooms for your workouts, running clubs, reformer classes and the next big wellness trend. Movement has become increasingly accessible, social and aesthetic. And maybe that is a beautiful thing. These spaces can motivate people who might otherwise never move at all.

But have we also found a way to make movement more aesthetic and accessible as a source of motivation, while simultaneously making it more expensive and more performative?

Movement for movement's sake

Back in the day, movement could simply be found on the streets. Friends walking, strolling, jogging, skating, cycling to somewhere they needed to be. Running because you wanted to run. Playing because you wanted to play. Moving without necessarily asking yourself what it was going to do for your body.

Now, I often see people around me finding movement between walls, in constructed classes designed around optimal health. The right temperature. The right music. The right equipment. The right sequence of exercises. Everything carefully designed to make you feel better, perform better and, ultimately, become better.

And I can fall for it too.

I love the calmness, the aesthetics, the feeling of being taken care of. I understand why these places are attractive, and I support the fact that they have brought movement into the lives of many people.

But I think we are still missing something.

Getting in shape is different from finding your own movement. Improving your health is different from experiencing movement. And perhaps we have started confusing the two.

When health becomes the goal

There is nothing wrong with wanting to be healthy. Of course not. Health is important, and movement is one of the many ways we can support it.

But what happens when health becomes the reason for every movement we make?

When a run is only valuable because it improves your fitness. When a workout is only successful because you lifted heavier. When a walk is only worth taking because your watch tells you that you have reached your daily steps.

I wonder if we have forgotten that movement can have value without producing an outcome.

Movement can be the outcome itself.

You can run because you feel like it. You can go to yoga because your day has been quite busy. You can cycle through the city because you want to see where the road takes you. You can skate with your friends until it gets dark. You can run ten laps around a track simply because you want to see if you can make it through all ten.

Maybe you don't need to know your pace.

Maybe you don't need to know your heart rate.

Maybe you don't even need to be particularly good at it.

Health can be something that comes along with movement, rather than the reason you have to move.

The performative body

This is where performative movement comes into play.

We have had the performative male in the past, and now I believe it has taken a new turn. Performative sports and not in the sense of winning a game, but in winning the look.

The right outfit. The right body. The right studio. The right class. The right running route. The right people around you.

There is a certain image attached to movement now. And while there is nothing inherently wrong with wanting to look good while doing it, the image can sometimes become more important than the experience.

Dressing to feel and perform your best is something I stand behind. But I also think we should normalize the opposite.

Running in an old painting shirt. Playing a sport you are terrible at. Getting sweaty without worrying about how you look. Going outside without turning the experience into a performance.

There should be room for both.

Finding the balance

Maybe balance is not about finding the perfect combination of training, nutrition, sleep and recovery.

Maybe balance is also accepting that not every movement needs to contribute to your optimal health.

Movement can be a way of challenging yourself physically, so that some of the mental things in life can fall into a better shape. It can be uncomfortable, stupid, exhausting, exciting or completely pointless. And maybe that is exactly the point.

Fully focusing on the physical experience, without having to worry about the right outfit, whether it's clean, whether you are performing well enough or whether someone else is watching, should have a place in our lives.

Not every day. Not every week.

Just when you feel like it.

Maybe the balance we are looking for isn't only about movement. Maybe it is about life itself.

The balance of life

A busy week, drinks with friends, a late night, unhealthy food, work, studying, going out, saying yes to everything. These things are part of life too. We don't have to turn every choice into something that is good for us. A healthy life doesn't have to mean a perfectly healthy life.

There should be room for the dinner that isn't nutritious, the drink you have with friends, the night you stay out too late and the morning after when you don't feel your best. But there should also be room for the opposite. A run on your own. An afternoon doing nothing. Cooking something that makes you feel good. Going to bed early. Taking a moment to breathe.

Maybe real balance is not about constantly correcting the things we do 'wrong' with something healthy. It is about allowing both sides to exist.

And maybe, when you do, movement will find its way back into your life sooner the next time.

So let's create a balance where movement can find its place as it should, not as something that always needs to be optimized, measured or performed, but as something that can simply exist for its own sake.

And if better health happens to come along with it?

That's a pretty nice side effect.