For me, exercise is a double-edged sword.
Simply put, it makes me feel so darn good; it’s a high I just can’t get enough of. But when I don’t do it, I feel like something is seriously missing. And at this point of my life, working out is like brushing my teeth–a non-negotiable part of my day.
I realize my affection/affliction for exercise could be likened to a drug addict and her “fix.” I don’t intend to deny the analogy or plead the fifth; it is what it is. Friends, family, my husband have all confronted me about my obsession. It’s out there. (I’m working on it!)
Yet if there is any drug to be addicted to, exercise surely isn’t the worst of the bunch, right? Of course, anything taken to the extremes can be dangerous and I’ve certainly flirted with exercise addiction over the years …
But truth be told, it’s a very easy addiction to succumb to: you do it, you feel good, you lose weight, you look better and are stronger inside and out.
We all know the merits of regular exercise: it lowers the risk of pretty much every disease known to man, keeps your heart strong, your muscles toned and your brain sharp. It helps us sleep better, encourages us to fuel ourselves better, and gives us courage to challenge our bodies physically and mentally. Excercise is the real deal, the feel-good fuel.
And with the exception of the obvious dangers of over-exercising like muscle tears, fatigue, aches and pains, burnout, etc., there’s really no reason to stop exercising. Unlike a drug addiction which could actually kill you, while over-exercising isn’t necessarily healthy or wise, it isn’t likely going to send you to the grave any sooner than the big man upstairs intends.
My reasons for daily exercise vary, depending on my mood and mental state at the moment.
I’ve worked out religiously at the gym to lose weight/maintain my weight the past four and a half years. I’ve lifted to tone my arms, shoulders, chest and thighs. I’ve crunched to flatten my abs. I’ve biked to “get away” and get lost in my thoughts. I’ve run to explore new territory in a new city.
I’ve done it for the thrill, the high. To feel the loosening of my muscles as I let go and zone out for 45 minutes or an hour. To relish the sweat dripping off my body, a beautiful defiance of all that is feminine and sweet about me.
But I’ve also doubled up on workouts, done Spin and Body Pump classes plus cardio to punish myself for over-eating or missing a day. Or just to burn more calories for the hell of it.
And like an addict without her “fix,” a day without exercise feels “wrong”.
Rationally, I’ll never be a lazy person; it’s not my nature. And logically I know my muscles aren’t going to turn flabby from a day of not exercising–or even a couple days, for that matter. Yet the empowerment that I feel after a good sweat session is what keeps me feeling mentally and physically strong. And the fear of getting fat again … well, that is always in the back of my mind.
So on days when I don’t (or can’t, for whatever reason) fit it in, I am often beset with guilt for denying my body such pleasure–even if it’s a planned day of rest. I mean, I’m not a marathon runner; exercise is a hobby for me–a passion. So I never quite understood why I should take a day off once a week, if my muscles aren’t hurting and if I feel good.
Any professional athlete or trainer will advise you, “One day of rest per week.” In fact, the owner/head trainer at my gym recently said to me as I flashed my gym pass under the scanner, “Man, you’re a gym rat, Melissa. You’re here every day!” I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or being serious … It got me thinking, maybe I do spend too much time at the gym.
So since then, I’ve been trying (admittedly, not always successfully) to view exercise as a component of the healthy picture versus the component. As in, weight loss is 90% about what you eat and 10% of what you do. While exercise keeps me mentally sane and grounded, it’s not going to help me lose much more weight at this point.
But it does make me feel good. And because of that, I hope to keep it an integral part of my life, just with a less obsessive compulsiveness. (A Libra by birth, I’ve concluded I am on a constant search for balance in my life).
Now on my planned days off (like today), I am still active–I just try to do something “different” to get that euphoric high that doesn’t necessarily include a sports bra and heart rate monitor–as in, a long post-dinner stroll or yard work with my husband, a bike ride on the trail behind my house, window-shopping on my lunch break. And soon, yoga will be added to the mix!
It’s nice to know that the mandatory day off will give me even more power and stamina my next session. I’ve noted I have run faster or been able to lift more following a day of rest. In that sense, now I “get it.”
I’m hoping that this attitude change will lead to a healthier, more flexible relationship with fitness. It should be a part of my life, but guilt has no place there.
Looking at the big picture, every day I move is a day I am making myself stronger and fitter. And every day I take off is a day for my muscles to recuperate and recharge. I’d say that’s pretty euphoric!
How about you? Are you addicted to exercise euphoria? How do you get your “fix” on a day off?
