Exercise - and Exercising Our Capacity To Respect Others
by Art Carey
From The Philadelphia Inquirer, December 23, 2002

Now that she and I were finally alone, with nothing between us but our workout clothes, the time was right to ask the question:
"Is it polite to call a woman 'a babe'?"
"Absolutely," said Mary Mitchell. "If you do it respectfully, it's a high compliment. I like to be called a babe. My husband often calls me 'doll,' and I adore it. As long as it's not leering or nasty, why not?"
(FYI: I always use babe respectfully, especially when a woman is built.) Mitchell is the countess of courtesy, the princess of politesse. For 10 years, she wrote the Ms. Demeanor column for this newspaper. Ostensibly, she dispensed advice about etiquette ("The mechanics," says Mitchell), but what she really tried to do was tame our inner barbarian.
"Good manners are sexy," says Mitchell. "If you have good manners, it makes the person you're with feel special. And what could be more attractive than having the power to make people feel special?"

Mitchell's latest attempt at repelling rampant rudeness is Class Acts (Evans and Co., $21.95), whose subtitle says it all: "How Good Manners Create Good Relationships and Good Relationships Create Good Business." You may be wondering: What's this got to do with fitness and the body? Plenty, it turns out. But first, let's lament the sorry state of American business.
Are you amazed at how often jobs that demand superb people skills are filled by bozos whose people skills run the gamut from negligible to nonexistent? Are you dismayed that so many bosses lack not only good manners and emotional intelligence, but also what Fitzgerald called "a sense of the fundamental decencies"? Do you think the ranks of management are infested with shallow nitwits, timid yes-men, soulless bureaucrats, self-promoting politicians, corporate flimflammers, as well as assorted yahoos, weasels, lizards, cretins, phoneys and facemen?
Mary Mitchell feels your pain.

"We have traded our compassion, kindness, consideration, our very integrity," Mitchell writes, "so that we may utilize the new technology . . . to acquire more money and power."
The great bosses - the class acts - understand that it's not about titles and bucks, power and control, Mitchell says. It's the art of bringing out the best in people. They also realize that happy people do their best work (what a concept!), and that the way to make and keep people happy is to follow the Golden Rule - treat people the way you'd want to be treated.
"No matter how technologically savvy we become, no matter how time-crunched, downsized and stressed out, the fact remains that people are people," Mitchell writes. "If you cut me, I bleed. If you disrespect me, I am hurt. The best people never forget this. . . The most successful business people . . . all try to consider other people first."
America is supposedly a classless society that revels in its democratic vulgarity. Yet we all aspire to manifest "class" - a word we use to mean the very best. To do something classy is to achieve a special kind of excellence, and to be labeled a "class act" is the highest compliment.
"A class act respects and honors others because a class act respects and honors himself," Mitchell says.

That goes for the body as well. Class Acts tells which fork to use, how to entertain the boss, speak in public, dress for success, work at home, and conduct that torrid romance at the office (if you can't resist, do it discreetly). But it also offers guidance on locker-room diplomacy (What do you say to a naked boss?) and etiquette for the gym, exercise class, and fitness path. Chapter 17 is titled "A Class Act Is Healthy in Body and Mind."
"Exercise clears the mind, making room for better thoughts and better choices," Mitchell said as we power-walked along the Schuylkill the other day. "Exercise also gives us more energy, and energy is attractive. Energetic people are magnetic. A body in motion is beautiful. When we feel better, we become more confident, and a class act has self-confidence."
Mitchell practices what she preaches. The daughter of an all-American lightweight football player, she studied ballet for 16 years. In college, she began running, partly for the solitude, partly for the creative goose. At age 45, she took up rowing.
Today, at 52, she's a trim size 6. She's also in constant pain. About a year ago, she slipped on a wet floor, severely injuring the neck portion of her spine. She can no longer run or lift weights, but that hasn't stopped her from exercising. She takes spinning classes five days a week and religiously does yoga, as much for the mental discipline as the physical release.
In her daily battle with chronic pain, she has found relief in meditation and visualization - practices that have renewed her respect for the power of the mind to heal the body, and vice versa.
"We need to get off tilt. We have become ruder and less considerate because we don't have enough sanctuary time. Exercise can give us peace by giving us space to think and reflect," says Mary Mitchell, one classy babe.

Copyright (c) 2002 The Philadelphia Inquirer