#2: Addicted to the Gym or Afraid of Losing Progress?*

Original Post Date: February 2021

It's 3pm and I'm suddenly competing with Sesame Street's Oscar the grouch. Plans for the remainder of the day are influx. I snap at my mom for wanting to walk around the mall, but I can't explain why. Until a few hours later, I'm back from the gym. I can breathe again. I’m in a good mood as if nothing was ever wrong in the first place. It’s taken me years to realize that I get this way when I'm anxious about finding time to workout, and to appreciate my first world problem, even when it doesn't feel that way.

I need to workout the way 'normal' people need coffee: It's the first thing I think about in the morning, and I'm not myself without it. Everything is better as soon as I give myself the chance. 2025 Edit: You'd think I'd have a better routine by now.

For the last two years, my gym addiction has been so "bad" that I have anxiety months before just one day of travel if I know that I’ll miss a workout or won't have access to a gym. I was petrified of going abroad because I knew that it would take me at least a few days to find a gym. I almost didn’t live in Boston for a semester because I was worried about not finding a gym immediately. I'm already texting anyone I can find in Seattle to ask about a gym months in advance. It sounds absolutely ridiculous, but you’d send me to the gym if you had to interact with me at 3pm on a busy Saturday before my workout.

Most people ask, “Why don’t you go for a run when you don’t have gym access?” or “What about a home workout?” Unfortunately, I'm not one to settle. I need to lift. While I'd prefer to go for a run over nothing, it's not enough. If I go on a run or to a spin class with my sister, I still need to lift later.

It’s irrational, but I’m afraid I’ll lose my progress if I miss a lift. No amount of scientific research can convince me otherwise. (Trust me, I’ve tried.) I wasn't always like this. When I first started lifting, I’d occasionally miss a day and it wasn’t the end of the world. My body would be grateful for the extra rest. The more time goes by, the more intense I become. It's the only kind of addition I'd willingly choose for myself. I occasionally force myself to take an extra day or two off, but I always plan far in advance and second guess myself. I haven’t missed a workout in eight months now.* I'm careful about not exercising the same muscle two days in a row so that I don't hurt myself.

There are fitness fanatics that hate their rest day so much that they often skip it, but this has never been me. I look forward to my rest day because it means I can wear real clothes and have more free time without feeling guilty. I guess I have less of an "addiction to the gym" and more of a fear of losing progress or becoming out of shape. I don't feel bad on my rest day because I feel like I've earned it. I get crabby when I miss a scheduled workout because the fear creeps in.**

There are times when I feel burned out, get concerned that the gym is taking over my life, or forget why I'm so dedicated. But at this point, lifting is such a big part of my life that I will always go to the gym even if I have zero motivation. I often joke that nothing else matters in the day after I’ve worked out, but it's not really a joke.

*I'm editing this post 9/14/21 and still haven't missed a scheduled workout. It's been over a year. 🤠 2025 Edit: What the hell. How did I do that.

**This was true at the time, but lifting is also great for my mental well-being. See follow up post.

This is a photo of Rufus and my dad doing push-ups during one of many quarantine workouts. I hated not having access to a gym, but at least I figured it out.