In youth fitness programs, inclusion is the key
No one should feel like they don't belong, due to CMT or otherwise

During my childhood, I never would’ve claimed that gym class was my favorite part of school. However, there were some activities I enjoyed and others I actively dreaded.
In elementary school, I loved playing games like “Clean Your Room” and, even more so, when teachers would bring out the giant, multicolored parachute. In high school, I didn’t mind the occasional game of knockout basketball.
The worst days were fitness test days, which involved running around the track, doing pushups, crunches, sit-and-reaches, and shuttle runs. On one particular day in high school, our gym instructor asked each student to attempt pullups. At the time, I could barely hang on to the bar, let alone pull myself up. I didn’t realize it then, but in retrospect, I believe those fitness test days were part of a Presidential Fitness Test program.
In the United States, the Presidential Fitness Test established standards for assessing youth fitness, strength, and flexibility. It began in the 1950s due to concerns that American children were lagging behind their European peers. Although the test evolved over the years, President Barack Obama’s administration formally retired it in 2012, transitioning to a Presidential Youth Fitness Program, which aimed to take a more individualized approach to fitness, with mixed results.
I’ve been reflecting on how the U.S. approaches physical fitness in schools, especially since President Donald Trump recently signed an executive order to reinstate the Presidential Fitness Test. This move suggests a desire to return to a standardized approach to physical fitness instruction for American children based on performance benchmarks.
As someone affected by Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease (CMT), I have mixed feelings about this. I have few fond memories of fitness tests, but I’ve also grown to enjoy working out at the gym in recent years. While I’m not a fan of any standardized fitness program that claims to promote healthy lifestyles, I have yet to see a version of an institutionalized fitness program for children that would have resonated with me as a child.
I was an awkward, often self-conscious kid who felt inadequate in many ways. Coupled with my clumsiness and physical weakness due in part to CMT, I wasn’t inclined to enjoy competitive sports or many forms of athletics during those years. Although I now understand that my teachers didn’t intend to convey a negative message, the impression I internalized was that the world of fitness wasn’t for someone like me.
In gym class, I don’t recall ever learning about the many modifications that could have helped me achieve my first “proper” pushup. This knowledge would have benefited me, as well as many of my peers, because I now realize that almost none of us were doing pushups correctly at the time. I never learned the reasoning behind the exercises we performed, why certain movements or feats were emphasized as important, what muscle groups particular exercises strengthened, or how any of it related to everyday life.
Many of us who struggled with the fitness tests often dismissed the idea of fitness altogether, giving up any notion that we could ever be considered athletic. We didn’t understand that athleticism can take many different forms, each equally valid.
I hope that everyone, including many of us in the disability community, finds their place in the world — whether in athletics, academics, the workplace, or within our local communities. We should all learn to appreciate our bodies so that we can better care for ourselves and one another, each in our unique way.
Unless the goal is to prepare individuals for specific roles, we should focus on fostering curiosity, encouraging discovery, teaching various ways to acquire new skills, and celebrating life, which includes finding joy in fitness. Physical education has a valuable role in schools, as fitness in all its forms is crucial to everyday life. Some studies even indicate that physical activity enhances memory and cognition.
I don’t know the best way to implement these ideas in the American education system. Many public schools are already operating on tight budgets, and teachers are experiencing significant burnout in recent years. Still, I remain hopeful that younger generations, whether able-bodied or disabled, will never feel excluded, inadequate, or insufficient.
Note: Charcot-Marie-Tooth News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Charcot-Marie-Tooth News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to Charcot-Marie-Tooth.
judy kessel
This article was very relevant tomy experience. I hated gym because I could not do many of the activities, fast running, climbing the rope etc. While I could get A's in most of my classes I got a D in gym. I just thought I was uncoordinated ( which I was because of CMT). I did not get a diagnosis until my 70's and it sure has helped me understand why I took up swimming most of my life!
Vanessa Loetscher
I have basically the same story, although I live in Switzerland. I hated gym class and was always the person to be the slowest, to score the lowest and the one who constantly injured themselves. Unfortunately, only one of my many gym teachers acknowledged my disability and my effort was the factor that counted. So I grew to hate sports. Until a few years after my graduation, when I first visited a gym and a fitness class. The teacher always showed modifications to make an exercise easier, and the moto was always “do the best you can”. So I realized that I actually like to exercise. By doing exercises that I liked and that didn’t target my weaknesses caused by my disability, I ended up going regularly to the gym, enjoying exercising by myself but also group classes like yoga. I find it really unfortunate that already in primary school, gym classes are so focused on reaching certain goals while neglecting that not everybody is built the same and that some people have disabilities.