I have never been a huge fan of the gym. It's true that there have been brief periods in my life where I've held a membership. My gym phases were largely characterized by the purchase of tourniquet-like sports bras, the strict avoidance of group classes, and some rather comical displays of athletic prowess (I am the girl who has fallen off the treadmill in public. Believe it.) Between my embarrassment over sweating profusely in public and propensity for hiding in the locker room, fumbling with my iPod and avoiding eye contact, it's no shock that just walking into a gym makes me uncomfortable.
However, it was during my flirtation as a gym member last summer that I discovered running. Imagine my shock when I, chronic exercise-avoider and couch surfer, learned that I loved to run. I felt accomplished after pounding out three miles. I was proud of the new athletic shape my body took. I loved reading about endurance tips and energy gels in Runner's World. Hell, I even loved that I had a legitimate reason to read Runner's World.
But running at the gym was an adventure in both physical sport and emotional distress. Because while I was on the treadmill, sweat pouring down my temples, all I could concentrate on what what I believed other gym goers could see. Where they watching my ass jiggle on the treadmill? Could they see the perspiration dripping down my back? Was I flabbier/fatter/less toned than the woman next to me? Wow, she's going so much faster than I am. I suck at running. I must look ridiculous. Why am I doing this? Oh, great, there's that super fit mom I know parading around the gym in a teeny tiny sports bra and teeny tiny shorts. She has zero percent body fat and probably runs a marathon without so much as a glimmer of sweat on her perfect brow before going to her daily pilates class. Why can't I look like that? I hate my thighs. OH MY GOD WHY AM I DOING THIS I AM A WHALE STOP LOOKING AT ME AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!
With every pound pound pound of my feet on the treadmill a litany of negative thoughts tore through my head. Thighs thighs thighs, fat fat fat, jiggle jiggle jiggle.
Negative body image can have a huge impact on exercise. We all know how important it is to be active - the merits of physical activity include strengthened muscles, stronger bones, decreased stress and better sleep. But it's no surprise that so many women feel uneasy in an environment where bodies are seemingly on display. Whether the discomfort comes from working out in front of men, the fear that they're being compared to other women, or the disdain to be seen perspiring and red-faced, it's there, and interferes in efforts to get healthy and stay active.
Now I ask you: have you every avoided exercise because of negative body image? Do you avoid working out in public because you feel badly about how you look? Do you have any advice for those who struggle with balancing negative body image and exercising?
(And now, in an act of courage, I present to you a pic of me after a workout. With undeniable proof of how good I feel after a run, despite fighting negative body thoughts.)
However, it was during my flirtation as a gym member last summer that I discovered running. Imagine my shock when I, chronic exercise-avoider and couch surfer, learned that I loved to run. I felt accomplished after pounding out three miles. I was proud of the new athletic shape my body took. I loved reading about endurance tips and energy gels in Runner's World. Hell, I even loved that I had a legitimate reason to read Runner's World.
But running at the gym was an adventure in both physical sport and emotional distress. Because while I was on the treadmill, sweat pouring down my temples, all I could concentrate on what what I believed other gym goers could see. Where they watching my ass jiggle on the treadmill? Could they see the perspiration dripping down my back? Was I flabbier/fatter/less toned than the woman next to me? Wow, she's going so much faster than I am. I suck at running. I must look ridiculous. Why am I doing this? Oh, great, there's that super fit mom I know parading around the gym in a teeny tiny sports bra and teeny tiny shorts. She has zero percent body fat and probably runs a marathon without so much as a glimmer of sweat on her perfect brow before going to her daily pilates class. Why can't I look like that? I hate my thighs. OH MY GOD WHY AM I DOING THIS I AM A WHALE STOP LOOKING AT ME AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!
With every pound pound pound of my feet on the treadmill a litany of negative thoughts tore through my head. Thighs thighs thighs, fat fat fat, jiggle jiggle jiggle.
Negative body image can have a huge impact on exercise. We all know how important it is to be active - the merits of physical activity include strengthened muscles, stronger bones, decreased stress and better sleep. But it's no surprise that so many women feel uneasy in an environment where bodies are seemingly on display. Whether the discomfort comes from working out in front of men, the fear that they're being compared to other women, or the disdain to be seen perspiring and red-faced, it's there, and interferes in efforts to get healthy and stay active.
Now I ask you: have you every avoided exercise because of negative body image? Do you avoid working out in public because you feel badly about how you look? Do you have any advice for those who struggle with balancing negative body image and exercising?
(And now, in an act of courage, I present to you a pic of me after a workout. With undeniable proof of how good I feel after a run, despite fighting negative body thoughts.)
No comments:
Post a Comment