'I had an unhealthy relationship with exercise. Here are 3 things that changed it.'

This post discusses eating disorders and could be triggering for some readers. 

Last week, I slipped out of a Pilates class 10 minutes early to meet my mum for lunch, and it struck me: my relationship with exercise has, finally, completely changed.

I used to feel an uneasy reverence for those in a thinner frame. I wondered what they did to look that way. How they ate, how they moved, how their habits impacted their shape, and of course if those habits would work that same magic on mine.

At the time, I was unknowingly in the grips of an eating disorder, and part of the reason my illness was a secret to me, was because this kind of admiration I had for people in thin bodies was being so effortlessly reinforced when I would look, well, anywhere really.

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I worked in gyms and fitness studios, and those environments made it explicitly clear to me that thinness was the goal of movement. The pursuit of weight loss was the only acceptable drive for exercise, so the more calories a workout could burn, the better. And if you worked yourself until you felt faint? Well, you’re doing it right. You’re fully committed, well done you!

It's the message touted by many fitness influencers. Even when they don’t explicitly say “if you follow my workout plan you will have my body” it’s loosely implied. It’s there in the advertising of gyms and fitness studios, and it even creeps into their hiring process. Their trainers are walking, talking adverts for their workouts. There’s no sign that says “our trainers are thin because they work out a lot” but it’s not a huge leap for prospective clients to assume that the trainers participate in the activities themselves.

For a good decade, I was one of those trainers who looked the part. I figured I’d earned my thin physique through dedication to a “clean” diet and exercise. I didn’t understand that it was actually a result of mostly genetics, a restrictive eating disorder and unhealthy relationship with movement. A potent mix, which was easily found within the walls of my workplaces. 

When I started the process of recovering from Anorexia Nervosa, I was faced with the reality that my much celebrated ‘healthy practises’ were actually anything but. I felt betrayed that I had been sold a complete lie. I was furious that in my pursuit of health and wellness, I had managed to do my body more harm than we can ever really know. But while anger is a perfectly normal and helpful response at the start of a bid to free yourself from harmful practises, it didn’t hang about, and was soon replaced with a drive to reclaim my life and my body in the pursuit of a truly healthy relationship with food and movement.

The thing is, exercise has always been my happy place. Before it was co-opted by diet and wellness culture, it was where I felt most connected with my body, most clear in my mind and most free in spirit. I wanted to get that back. And I knew it would be a journey, but I didn’t know just how beautiful it would turn out to be. Here’s how I went from over exercising to moving for the sake of joy and in pursuit of real wellness.

I took a few months off from formal exercise. 

It started with a stop. I completely stopped exercising.

That’s right, you heard me, full permission to skip the gym. This was the time to sit with any feelings of guilt or discomfort that might come up - and boy did they. This discomfort was a sign that my relationship with movement had been totally co-opted by the “no pain no gain” militia. I noticed myself worrying about step counts, muscle loss and ‘laziness’. But I sat with it. Once I was able to identify these unhelpful motivations, I could begin to find movement that actually felt right for me.

I took guilt off the table.

A damaging relationship with food and movement is cantered around guilt, restriction, and penance. These ways of being with ourselves are so normalised that we actually mistake them for a healthy lifestyle. How else would the diet industry have become the ever-growing juggernaut it is today?

I taught myself to remember that the opposite of a restrictive diet and exercise practise is not saying YES to every food that was offered to me and never setting foot back inside a gym. It’s complete food and movement freedom. Which means, freedom to say YES or NO depending on how your body feels. No more eating only what’s deemed “healthy” and no more forced 4:45am gym alarms. But it also meant saying “no” when I don’t want the cake at a birthday party and going to a HIT class if that's what I feel like doing that day.

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I tried everything!

You know how every kind of fitness studio has a great intro offer to get you hooked? I used all of them! Some of them I hated and didn’t bother going back, some I loved and couldn’t believe it (hello, Barre!) but in all of them, I listened to my body and pushed myself as hard as I wanted to go. And if I didn’t feel like going to a class I’d already booked into -I skipped it.

Most importantly, I stopped thinking of exercise in terms of outcome. It no longer mattered how many calories I’d burned, steps I’d taken, or weight I’d lifted. All that mattered was how the movement made my body feel. And it felt amazing.

I still sometimes get a niggling feeling that I’m not moving enough. I still sometimes wonder if I’m ‘lazy’ when I don’t push myself as hard as others in a class. But those thoughts pass as quickly as they popped up, and I just keep moving, on my terms, and no one else’s.

Over the years, and with lots of practise, I managed to reclaim my love of movement.

I stopped listening to my heart rate monitor, and just listened to my heart.

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