[2] Pumping Lead.

An Op-Ed that details my obsession with the gym, focusing on how it bolstered my insecurities.

I wouldn’t be the person that I am, both physically and mentally, without the influence that health and fitness have granted me. But, looking back, the gym and the culture that surrounds it may have exacerbated insecurities that threatened my well-being.

Today, fitness is both an integral part of my lifestyle and contributes to the first impression that others have on me. What they don’t know is what I was like before I started working out. Hell, I don’t know myself why I started working out. But I do know that I wanted to look better.

I used to think that muscles were congenital: if you weren’t born with them, you would never have them. And so, when I found out that I could work to improve my looks, I was suddenly given an opportunity to remedy my insecurities.

Still, I was oblivious to what I needed to do. After being frustrated with my ignorance, I remember watching tons of training videos and reading dozens of sports science articles, and as such, I had replaced my ignorance with indecisive confusion. When flooded with extensive information regarding proper nutrition, effective exercises, optimal rest periods, encouraged supplements, and necessary volume, I figured that there was no better place to start than to learn through trial and error.

I felt immense pride in the fact that I had started on this journey. None of my friends worked out, and so I was determined that I could “catch up” to everyone else through hard work and sheer determination. I felt that I was somehow better than my peers because I was going to the gym. I was doing something that they weren’t doing. I was doing something that they may not have had experience with.

I spiraled down this rabbit hole, where I would spend hours watching training tutorials, bodybuilding documentaries, studies on steroid usage, and exhibitions of incredible physiques. Eventually, I became unhappy with the limited progress I had made in the past few months. I wanted something to show for my effort, and I decided to go all out.

Looking back, I should have been patient. I’m sure that I would have enjoyed my experience with the gym far more if I hadn’t obsessed over it. I thought that, even though I was unhappy and tired, it was all worth it because I would look good. That’s all that mattered to me back then. And to be completely transparent, I don’t think I’m that much different now.

I remember telling people that I didn’t really enjoy going to the gym. I didn’t enjoy destroying every fiber in my body. I didn’t enjoy eating just protein. But I told them that none of it mattered. I did all this not for enjoyment but out of responsibility. I told people that I needed to ensure that my past self never returned. In reality, I think I was just drunk off of motivational content while trying to justify my self-hatred.

Sure, I was stronger than that guy, but I wasn’t as lean as him. Sure, I’ve been more consistent at the gym, but I’m not as big. I was ashamed of my body and thus began searching for external validation. But I never received it. Not only did I not receive any praise, but I also began stressing over meaningless, friendly banter. I became sensitive to each and every comment made about my physique. Because, without applause, what was it all for?

Sure, the influx of Instagram bodybuilders made me feel like I wasn’t enough, but I never really compared myself with them. I looked to them as potential destinations... as something to look forward to. On the contrary, I think I bolstered my insecurities by comparing myself with my peers.

I don’t think it was ever jealousy. It’s not that I didn’t want these people to not have what they had. It’s that I felt terrible knowing that there were people who had more than what I had. I felt like a disappointment. But I couldn’t quit. That was for the real losers, at least according to gym culture. Why would you intentionally put less effort into the gym, especially if you haven’t attained your dream physique yet? Comparison was the killer of my joy.

I still think that, to a certain degree, comparison is essential for growth. Competitions are motivating because we want to be better than others, but it’s possible to obsess over the results of an arbitrary competition to the point that you lose track of the process.

I felt that the emphasis on efficient and optimum training restricted my enjoyment of the gym. I made too many sacrifices for this one goal. I didn’t understand that the gym was meant to be a component of my lifestyle, not its entirety. Honestly, I’m still not sure how to balance finally achieving my lifelong goal for physical appeal and my preexisting responsibilities.

But, as someone who has finally started to enjoy the gym once more, found a healthier relationship with food, and has begun bringing different interests into the spotlight, I look back on the influence of gym culture with both gratitude and cautiousness. Of course, I would not have reached the point that I am right now without the gym. I would not be nearly as confident. I would not have had a hobby that I was truly passionate about. I would not be as driven, diligent, and persistent.

But, at the end of the day, it is important to prevent ourselves from becoming obsessed, as we may find ourselves discouraged and hateful when following this inherently unsustainable path.