Death By Exercise

*gasp* back from the gym

*gasp* purple in the face

*heave* just going to … lie down … a moment … *flop*

You can’t actually die of a coronary after the exertion’s finished, can you?

So, I am back from my today’s PT sessions at the gym. I’m probably not actually dying; in fact, there’s a good chance I might survive. Provided I do, the rest of the day’s looking pretty rosy.

I started personal training late last year when the fog began to lift from the worst of my depression. I have been quite fit in the past, half-marathon fit; but a series of medication changes last year, and plenty of time in hospital, meant I lost a lot of cardiovascular fitness and gained a lot of weight. A lot of weight. I tend to dress to hide it, and when I told my PT how much I weighed today, he didn’t believe me! Perhaps he’ll go a bit easier on me now – after all, when I do a pushup or lift my bodyweight on the rings, I’m actually lifting a lot more than he thought I was. (He won’t go easier on me. That’s just I’m-puffed-out fantasizing.)

I put myself through these intensive workouts because I know it’s the only way I’ll actually improve my fitness. I need to lose a lot of weight, and the sooner I do it, the better; but I’m educated and experienced enough to know that fad diets won’t do the trick – it takes lifestyle change and, unfortunately, a long slow decrease in bodyfat.Β Knowing I have to front up to the gym twice a week and be flogged by the PT makes me get on the exercise bike between sessions – not because I want to, because even reading New Scientist being on the exercise bike is boring, but because I know it will make the next session less traumatic on my poor battered body.

The other reason for going for intense workouts is – you guessed it! – the endorphin rush. It takes a little longer to arrive after being worked to a blubbering wreck, but – oh yeah baby – here it comes now. Can’t beat it. That’s the stuff! Yeah, I’m a junkie πŸ™‚ We all have our vices.

So now I can sink into a self-righteous glow of well-being for the rest of the day. I know my anxiety will be less, my mood won’t be as low, and I’ll probably sleep better tonight. Guess what? I didn’t even have a panic attack at the gym today! “Everything’s coming up Millhouse.”

Hope you’ve been able to fit some physical activity into your schedule today.

11 Comments

Filed under Out, Up

11 responses to “Death By Exercise

  1. Wow, nice! I’ve never been brave enough for a trainer. I’ve started going to yoga almost daily, but I think it’s going to take running and/or swimming to get back to my half-marathon shape. I just saw a photo of me crossing the finish line as I was cleaning. What a high!

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    • Yay! πŸ™‚ I guess for me there were two main factors in deciding to get a trainer: (a) I knew my motivation was going to be a huge inhibitor, coming out of such a deep depression; and (b) I was able to find a good one at a cheap rate (through the local YMCA). What I like best about him is that he gets the whole mental health thing – or, at least, if he doesn’t get it, he does a good job of hiding it πŸ™‚ He doesn’t wig out if I start having a panic attack. It’s actually quite impressive, in someone so young.

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  2. Ummm no. I haven’t. But you’re right, I should.

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  3. I went to the gym today too! It really does help with anxiety – the endorphin rush and all. It’s even better when you start to notice you’re losing weight.

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    • Sure is! Nothing like small wins, in the anxiety stakes or the weight game.
      I’m usually a numbers girl, but I’m actually choosing to stay off the scales at the moment. It’s a little experiment in being more in tune with the process than the outcome. It’s interesting to me that I’m maintaining motivation in exercise even without stepping on the scales … and even though, in general, I’m fairly low energy and unmotivated this week.

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  4. Good for you. The hardest thing is starting, and you’ve done that! I totally support you and every gasp you let out.

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