Is exercise REALLY worth the effort?
The challenge of trying to be healthy when you have executive dysfunction.
I keep thinking I should cancel my gym membership.
Every time I go and actually work out, I feel better afterwards - stronger, calmer, smugger. I know this. I’ve learned many times that exercise is worth the effort. But I still have to drag myself there like I’m hauling a dead weight. (Spoiler: the dead weight is me.)
And the gym. Ugh. I don’t know. A part of me hates it.
Shouldn’t we all be outside? I think.
Couldn’t I be running through trees? Breeze in my hair?
Mightn’t we talk to each other?
But when I don’t have a gym membership I don’t run through the trees that much at all. I just spend more time sitting on my arse. Writing, snacking, bonding with my pets.
So eventually, I get another subscription.
The last time I did this loop that ends up with gym membership, I impulsively decided to get a more luxurious gym.
That’s right, people, I joined David Lloyd.
It was an impulsive, ill-considered move because I was well-pregnant and hadn’t talked it through with my partner (who actually does that before important decisions?) and we couldn’t exactly afford it with a baby hurtling towards us.
"So what do you think? Can I sign you up today?” the gym manager or whoever said, and as all the above hesitations ran through my head, I smiled brightly.
“Sure! Let’s do it!”
Salespeople love my ingrained people-pleasing habit.
My partner was like, You’ve signed us up for what? So I offered to pay the whole membership. I was still unused to having a decent salary, and convinced I was rich adjacent.
That was over two years ago, and at one point I did almost get defined arm muscles (still not sure what they are called. Oh yeah! Biceps!)
“You’re looking ripped!” a friend said to me, one day when we were out walking the dog, and I finally understood what all those reps had been about.
It has never happened again, but it was amazing.
I’ve tried cardio tennis (actually quite fun, but I forgot about it until writing this sentence), zumba (fucking hate cos dyspraxia), pickle ball (love, but my friend pointed out the old people there play it like tennis and I don’t want to learn bad habits because then how will I become a champion?) and I’ve had a good run with Body Pump - I think that was responsible for the wisp of bicep that began to emerge, actually. But still.
It is SO HARD to get myself there. Deep resistance every time. And I often forget what I need or am so stressed by the time I get there that I have lost the modicum of motivation I generated for exercising.
Sometimes when it’s ‘my turn to train’ I just lie down on a mat and look at my phone (note to self, must do something about chronic phone addiction.)
Sometimes I sleep on one of the sun loungers.
Often I do two laps of the pool - that’s right TWO, mother-flippers - and then I write (okay, look at my phone) on a sun lounger.
I’m not saying this is bad. I’m saying that I pay a lot of money for this experience.
And maybe it’s time to struggle to engage with exercise in a different way.
What do you think?
Help me.
My energy situation is weird. Only this week, I’ve stopped breastfeeding through the night, so I haven’t slept through the night for over two years.
More because pregnancy was a sleep nightmare too.
And Au-dhd plus major introversion means I never know if I’m tired-tired, emotionally-tired, overstimulated, under-stimulated or just flagging because I’ve had too many giant marhmallows and not enough solitude.
Exercise is sold to us as this magic fix - endorphins! dopamine! resilience! -but no one talks about how much executive function it takes to even get out the door.
The amount of times I have to run back into the house because I forgot something for the gym could actually be my main exercise for the day.
And yet, I know it’s essential.
A non-negotiable.
Not just for me, but for my kid. Because when I feel stronger in my body, I cope better with everything and my body feels better too. Live longer, etc. Better quality of life in the longer term. Also hotter.
I know the benefits of exercise.
Getting sober all those years ago, I signed up for the obligatory charitable 10k. I went running or swimming on Friday nights and felt superior to all the pissheads still smoking in the beer gardens across the city (and nation). I got pretty good at downward dog.
Exercise is a part of my life now in a way it never was when I was a drinker.
I haven’t quit. Yet. I’m not going to, because I’m not stupid.
But I’m also not going three times a week and sometimes, if the baba gets ill or I don’t get any sleep, I don’t even go one time a week.
I go when I can. Do what I can.
It’s a while since I just parked my car at the gym, climbed into the back seat and napped. So I guess that’s something.
But maybe the gym, even the luxurious gym, just isn’t my cup of tea.
In my unmasking challenge, it’s something that I keep thinking about letting go.
This is a post asking you to make my minor life decisions for me and also to say: if you’re also stuck between “exercise helps”, “I can’t be arsed,” and “I cannot keep track of my gym clothes and padlock”, I see you.
You’re not doing it wrong.
And maybe the effort is worth it.
Or maybe it isn’t.
But either way, you’re not failing!
And I am probably going to end my gym membership.
Okay, wish me luck. Today, I’m signed up for tennis.
Chelsey x
📚 Chelsey Flood is the author of award-winning novels Infinite Sky and Nightwanderers, and a senior lecturer in creative writing at UWE. She is currently working on a book for Jessica Kingsley Publishers about the connection between undiagnosed neurodiversity and addiction + her first domestic noir. 📚
Hoooo this one hit home Chelsey! After a big breakup a decade ago, I was living my best life on my own, walking to and from work, and got into a rhythm of taking exercise classes a few times a week. I lived in a hustling, bustling area with exercise studios on every corner; a pilates reformer studio was a two-minute walk from my condo. I loved that routine, but it was so tied to that particular moment in my life and that hyper-geolocation.
Now I live in the suburbs and have three young kids and a dog and I'm in the worst shape of my life. It has a lot to do with just wanting to be in my room, alone, whenever I can, overloaded as I am with demands. There's actually a community gym just a 5 minute walk from here, but the executive dysfunction and the guilt prevent me from going. The guilt comes from the fact that I should walk the dog more than I do, so the mere thought of venturing out alone for exercise -- without my dog -- floods me with bad feelings.
If all my time were my own again, like it was a decade ago, maybe I'd be in great shape today. But it's not, and I'm (certainly) not.
My husband and I went kayaking yesterday - something we never do - for our anniversary. After we came home I stood in front of the mirror looking at my arms, wondering if they looked different after an hour on the water. Oh dear.
And then wondering if they will ever again look and feel the way they did during my yoga phase from a few years ago.
And now I’m feeling a pit in my stomach because I’ve had “cancel YMCA membership” on my to do list for way more months that I’d like to admit.
Sigh.