In January, I took an abbreviated Sumits series teacher training. Sumits, if you don’t know it, is a 75- or 60-minute set series, combining a bit of Bikram with a touch of Ashtanga, mostly to music, and in a heated room. While Bikram is still my fundamental series (Ashtanga now maybe runs a second when I have enough energy —hi Sy!), having already done an Inferno Hot Pilates teacher training (in order to get the job teaching Bikram), it made sense to follow it up with the other style taught at my home studio, Sumits.
Officially a 250-hour group training, I did a week of one-on-one classes with a teacher who popped up from Perth, and the rest on my own, with support from my usual teacher and mentor Sy.
My brain was already pretty full when I jumped into it. I had started teaching Bikram in the studio in May last year, and then Pilates in August. I had finally stopped sneaking in a paper Pilates plan when I did the Sumits training, and now suddenly yet again had a whole new dialogue and series to get under my belt.
When I learned to teach Bikram, I already knew the series in my body inside out, (bones to skin 😉). But like Pilates, I hadn’t practised Sumits anywhere near as much. I had to learn it intellectually, and fast, while also cramming in extra physical practices. I was completely terrible and it didn’t help that I was also horribly short on time.
Still, I did a mock class and was thrown in the deep end in the studio, the only way to really learn no matter how much you’ve read and practised.
This week, I finally cracked it.
It was interesting to break down what that felt like and how I knew it.
The factual part was: I remembered all the bloody triangles, extensions, twists, straightenings, lengthenings, airplanes and hands-to-prayers (more or less).
The bodily experience was: I spoke from my gut not my throat. I was present rather than petrified.
I didn’t use anyone’s names and I didn’t adjust the heat properly and I didn’t start the songs at the right moments. But I could feel I was finally there in the room after weeks of shrinking into the back wall wanting it to swallow me up (it refused).
So now I can start properly.
What helped? Having Sy show up (relentlessly) so I always had someone to give me proper feedback and stay on my back about getting it right. As well, that class was the first after a bodywork session. I always teach from more centred, properly aligned place in the days after one.
As an aside: Even when you’re pretty sure you shouldn’t be there giving a class because a grown up should actually be in charge, you can still, believe it or not, be somewhat useful. Someone in a class a few weeks ago told me they loved the detail in the dialogue of looking towards your thumb while in downward-facing dog before stepping your leg through into Warrior I. It meant she could do it without doing that weird double-step thing that we all do at the start. It’s there in the dialogue, so it’s not to my credit at all, but it goes to show students are too busy thinking about their own lefts and rights to worry as much about your lefts and rights as you think they are.
Still, it doesn’t help much to know that, as it’s just an intellectual thought; you’ve just got to keep doing it till you feel it.
What I’m listening to
I don’t love the way the music flows during a Sumits class, but I am a big fan of music during practice and I love how having to make a playlist keeps me listening to fresh music all the time. (Let it be noted that I’m also a big fan of silence during practice, too.)
My favourite of the moment is Like Sugar (a great Flow Three). Just trying playing that without standing up to dance. You’re welcome!
Meanwhile, here is what listening, playing, improvising and composing music does to your brain. Shorter version: It affects your whole brain. Listen to more music, play more music.