By Rachel Restivo
My mom told me I should go to the gym because she noticed I was depressed, as any mom would. “Haven’t you heard exercise is good for depression?” Jennifer said. “You should try it out.” As well as my friend who exercises at least four times a week. “I look great, and feel great,” Steph said. “Give it a shot.”
I’ve been feeling unmotivated with low self-esteem and self- confidence. I got a membership at Planet Fitness. I did not know what to do when I got there, so I made up my own workout routine.
The first thing I saw was the weight rack. Weights were the only piece of equipment I recognized. I grabbed two ten-pound weights. I felt my depression decrease as I lifted the weights. Next, I grabbed the fifty-pound weights. I stood on my right leg while balancing on my left toe. They were too damn heavy. Could not lift those hunkers.
That was bullshit. The Kardashians came to my mind as I thought about quitting. I figured if I got my body to look like Kim’s I would be happy. “The better I look, the better I will feel, right?” I said to myself. So, I picked up another weight. Those ones were twenty pounds. “What are you doing?” I said to myself. “You are making a fool out of yourself.” I started lifting, up and down up and down. My arms decided to give out mid-lift. The weights went down along with my balance. I face-planted right onto the mat. The only thing I bruised was my ego. Which was not good because the reason I was there in the first place was for my ego.
Everywhere from CNN, Harvard Health, Washington Post, ABC News, The Guardian, and Science Daily told me exercise would cure my depression. The Guardian, specifically, has an article titled, “Exercise is the new antidepressant.” I also read an article in the Science Daily titled, “One hour of exercise a week can prevent depression.” I also read an article that stated people who over exercise can end up having anorexia, eating disorders, suicidal thoughts, and depression. That increased my anxiety.
Once you develop exercise dependency, you become obsessed with the way you look and how much food you are consuming. over-exercising can first lead to pain insensitivity, next capability for suicide, then suicide attempts.
Too much working out can also lead to post-workout depression. High intensity workouts like, kickboxing, burpee pull-ups, pistol squats, and barbell thrusters can make your depression enhance. Not only depression, but anxiety and mood swings. Overtime the exercises can negatively impact your mood.
The last person I wanted to end up like was Katherine Schreiber, a twenty-eight year old recovering exercise addict from New York City. She is the co-author of the book, The Truth About Exercise Addiction. As stated in her book, “I would go to the gym before the office,” said the author Schreiber. “My weight became dangerously low.” She started exercising and it soon became an obsession. Her interest in exercise developed into an eating disorder. She believed she was in control of all her emotions when she exercised, but she was not. She soon did not want to do anything that interfered with her gym schedule. Schreiber had no social life and her life eventually revolved around exercise.
Brittany Williams is another example. She is a twenty-four-year-old athlete who almost died by running five miles every day, eating the right kind of everything, and generally having a healthy lifestyle. In 2014, Williams fainted in the middle of Times Square from cardiac arrest, after which the doctors put her into an induced coma. Williams eventually woke up from her coma and recovered, however she was confused at the thought of her heart almost failing her. “I thought heart disease happened to the elderly or heavily smokers/drinkers,” said Williams. “Not young adult athletes like me.”
She stopped exercising.
Last Saturday I went back to the gym. I did not know what to do. “This is bullshit,” I said. “No more damn weights.” After fifteen minutes of contemplation, I decided to go on the treadmill and see if running would work out for me. I started with a low speed of 1.5. As I looked around, I saw people were jogging. That is what I needed to be doing, or I did not belong in the gym in the first place. I increased my speed from 2.0 to 3.0 to 4.0, then to 5.0 for every minute.
Now I was running at a speed of 5.0. I was sweating and could hardly catch my breath. I pushed through for five minutes straight, then got off to catch my breath. I felt such a high. A peace that only exercising has given me. For the next few weeks, I went to the gym 3-4 days a week and enjoyed running. For the first time in months, I felt somewhat happy.
I started to become obsessed with the gym and was going every day for hours at a time. Then, I noticed my depression returning. Could this be due to my intense workouts? I lost twenty pounds and felt confident, so why was I feeling depressed again? The next day I tried ignoring the initial depressive feeling and started my run. After this workout, I felt even more depressed than last week. “You have to go the gym,” I said to myself. “It cured your depression and your looking awesome.” I did not feel awesome.
I had gone to the gym because Science Daily, The Guardian, Steph, and my even my mother told me it would make me feel better, but I learned that conventional wisdom is almost always wrong. It should be, but is not defined as, “thoughts that were developed by a lazy person because they didn’t want to do research.” The earth is flat, don’t swim right after eating, money can’t buy you happiness, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. All bullshit.
Experts such as Mark Twain, Warren Buffet, and Malcolm Gladwell have noted that conventional wisdom is no wisdom at all. “Of course, wise people should have known better,” said the billionaire financier Buffett. “But there is a natural progression to how good new ideas go bad.”
“Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect,” said the humorist writer Twain.
“Conventional wisdom is often wrong, said the famous journalist Gladwell. “It pays to question it.”
While I was in the gym yesterday, I looked over at the treadmill, to change it up, I walked over to the stair master. I stepped onto the highest step and was three feet taller than everyone else. One woman was smiling and laughing as she was lifting fifty-pound weights. Another woman was jogging on a treadmill with a smile of joy on her face. I was still depressed as hell.
I got off the stair master. “Hey,” said Carl, a Plant Fitness employee. I smiled and nodded.
“I will see you next week,” I said. Or never.
When I got home, I called a therapist.
