I have now being going to the gym solo for two months,yes two whole months of multiple weekly sessions. Of course it wasn’t all jump in and be a pro, lifting heavy free weights and running miles every time, it was mostly hard. Most of the time I was unable to even get on a machine or pull any weights but I made it to the gym, I guess that’s a plus, I walked in to the changing rooms and tried to motivate myself to get out there and improve. Yet sometimes I couldn’t even get to the other side of the doors because I was scared of everything, a million things rushing through my head and eyes digging in to my every move. To celebrate this momentous occasion and yes not to blow my own trumpet but its a massive thing to celebrate for me, I have struggled with social anxiety and heartbreaking insecurity for YEARS. So going and doing something completing out of my comfort zone and sticking with it when I had to go alone is something I should be proud of, something I am proud of. Due to it being week 8 I would like to express and celebrate pushing aside every ounce of anxiety and doing everything that gives me sweats, heavy breathing and a pulsing headache.
Joining the gym was a spur of the moment idea in July, James and I decided a few weeks before we jetted off that we wanted the ‘holiday bod’. In my head I thought we would go lift weights, become gods and suddenly have a tan all in time to get on the plane. Then we’d be walking the beach showing our new overnight mighty physique. Of course this didn’t work at all, yes we lifted weights but we didn’t wake up ripped or have a luscious body building tan to support our holiday dreams as I would have so loved to achieve. Plus we drank and ate enough on this trip to back track our fitness journey to before we even began. We’d go after work for an hour and half and “try” to motivate one another to lift heavier and for longer. The holiday came and went and so did our motivation to get our asses to the gym. Then September came our membership finished and uni had started for James meaning I had to either start on my own or head for the sofa.
Weirdly I decided that maybe I should give this fitness thing a good soiled try. I signed up and as soon the money left my bank I headed straight for the doors of pure gym, of course my first session was a little less than half an hour. A poor excuse for a gym session i know , I don’t think you can even call it a session at that rate. The first time I walked through the doors on my own, my earphones wouldn’t cover up the sound in the gym and once I finally pulled myself out of the changing rooms and sat at a machine to feel like everyone is staring at me because I’m doing everything wrong, I don’t fit in or I’m overly sweating if that’s such a possible thing.
My anxiety set in and I had to leave almost immediately. Breathing became irrational and my head began to spin, I could feel everyone’s eye digging into my back at spending a solid 20 minutes on one machine and leaving. I wasn’t sure what to do that would suit the muscles I wanted to improve or how to even use the machines in the first place, everyone around me seemed like they new exactly what they were doing and it was very intimidating knowing that you could be the only one who didn’t have a clue. Which of course would be the sore thumb unfortunately sticking out in the crowd.
It took me several sessions to pluck up the courage to be able to stay for at least an hour, working up to it bit by bit. Working up to this took a lot of work, I had to push down my inner fear, the panics and uncontrollable worries that I will be judged for the amount I weight and if you’ve ever seen my stick arms you know it’s less than zero.
Now I have concurred my irrational fear of a building full of fitness, I want to document my improvement, failures and insecurities of the gym world. For an overly insecure and low mood individual that talks about it way to much I want to improve, inspire and encourage doing something that scares you if I can.