This sounds like a very "deep" & emotionally "aware" idea to consider - and I've chose to exemplify it with what may seem like a pretty simple, non-earth-shattering decision (srsly, what's the big deal?). However, when you're someone like me who tends to allow yourself to be overwhelmed with guilt & shame over, well, many things (don't blame the Church lol), almost no decision comes without substantial deliberation in that part of my brain - the part that allows me to stew over whether or not I should have ate something, what I should do to remedy that choice, or how many times I should apologize to my boyfriend for the split second that I "raised my voice" to him. Seriously, can I just opt out certain sections of my brain? The guilt & shame section?
Anyway, in 2013 I joined a gym with my boyfriend (LA Fitness) and absolutely fell in love with it. It can easily be said that the foundation of our relationship & it's progression in its infant stage was fueled & nurtured by our trips to the gym together. Even though we worked out separately, it was the mutual motivation & effort that drew us close together, along with the late night healthy dinners and long conversations during our 2 a.m., 90-minute round-trip commutes home & back (with the inevitable stop to get gas station coffee on account of our narcoleptic tendencies.).
These fond memories are only part of the reason why I absolutely loved our gym. Granted it was 20 minutes from what we considered home base (my boyfriend's apartment) and 45 minutes from my home - that was pretty standard for us (especially considering I was living on the furthermost outskirts of the greater Cleveland area, "farm country"). The distance was the only even REMOTELY negative aspect of this gym. though it took a few months, I eventually worked up to having the utmost confidence there - one I had once only dreamed of. Matt & I ruled the weight room. We were workout partners every morning at 5 a.m. - benching, squatting, (assisted...) pull-ups, walking lunges, & even taking over the empty classroom to workout legs, stretch, and etc. The environment was comfortable. The layout made sense. I was the strongest and most fit I had ever been in my life. It was LOVE.
Then, last Summer, a FITWORKS opened up l.i.t.e.r.a.l.l.y. 1 (uno) minute from "home base." At the time, there was VERY little question as to whether or not we could pass up this opportunity. No way! We had slowly fallen off of our 5 a.m. workout schedule, and blamed the "distance" as our reason for neglecting our beloved LA Fitness. Thus, we showed up to the new Fitworks, did a quick check to see if they had everything we needed - & we were thrilled. While they didn't have a pool or a track....we didn't really need those things, did we? Oh, and the membership fees were less expensive? AND when you consider what we would save on gas too.... we were sold! We were both very excited to start our new journey at our new gym. It could be our "fresh start" :-D :-D :-D (sarcastic smiles, as I have come to vehemently hate this phrase...)
However, it wasn't long before I realized that this place just....wasn't the same. The pool & the track were missing, but wasn't a big deal. There was much more lacking in my experience. The layout of the weight area was cramped and constantly overwhelmed with the grumpiest of lifting enthusiasts (like Y cant u be nice tho?). The cardio machines, all stationed under blinding fluorescent lights, were arranged in what may as well have been theater-style seating, with the weight area taking center stage. The well-kept locker rooms were impressive, but alas, the walk TO the locker rooms was what I would consider "mid-mezzanine" or "upper orchestra". I would have felt more privacy with the following Amber Alert:
"Attention all Northeast Ohio Residents. 28-year-old, slightly fluffy white female, heavily panting & sweating, is attempting to scurry to the bathroom in what seems like an EMERGENCY situation. Please, use your best efforts to stare, take pictures, and tweet them with pathetic hasthags. #SaveALife
In other words, no matter where you were or what you were doing, many (if not all) of the gym could see you - oftentimes from the intimidating height of an elliptical, treadmill, assisted pull-up machine, and etc. Needless to say, my confidence at this gym was shot. I missed my dimly lit, well-arranged, semi-private, compartmentalized LA Fitness. Some days I could build up enough confidence at Fitworks to lift in the far-far corner of the weight area, but most days I secluded myself to the dark cardio theater - subjecting myself to the absolute worst movie choices (a small con, but a con nonetheless), even avoiding the locker room so as to not walk past the audience eagerly awaiting the muse of their Amber Alert.
This is where the real feels come in. I felt this way every time I went to the gym, and I was overwhelmingly ashamed. What the actual f*** was my problem? I'm not morbidly obese. This isn't my first time at the rodeo. Look at all of those people out there not giving the slightest bit of care what *I* think of them. I know, for sure, they don't care about what I'm doing at the gym. I felt sheer embarrassment and shame over the fact that I had let my confidence slip so far off kilter. I considered getting workout equipment at home, or switching gyms - but those thoughts just brought even more guilt, shame, and embarrassment. Why couldn't I just get over this & make it work?! Why was I plagued with this self consciousness and anxiety?
Then, one day, as I'm stewing over why I'm on the couch watching epitome of crap TV (Bravo, anyone?) instead of at the gym working on my dream body, I think about all the pent-up emotion and bitterness that had accumulated over the previous 9 months over Fitworks. I feel regret over leaving the gym I loved: "If only I had stayed there... how much closer would I be to my goals by now?" I think about all the gym equipment I dream of purchasing "one day" so that I can have access to the big 3 lifts (squats, deads, bench) in the comfort of my home. I sat there drudging over all of these "one days" & "if onlys" - and of course, guilt guilt guilt.
Then... I remembered one of the most important lessons (of many) my friend Sophie taught me. Treat yourself as you would a child. Nurture yourself. Be compassionate to yourself.
I thought to myself, what would I do if my daughter joined a new dance studio - and decided she no longer felt comfortable there? She legitimately missed her old friends, the way the studio was laid out, the music she danced to, the environment, & the way she felt when she was there. Would I tell her to suck it up & learn to like her new studio? To stop being a baby & make new friends? Some parents might. This "parent" wouldn't.
Then, what if she wanted a barre & mirror to practice with in the basement? Granted, this would be a bit of an expense.... but if I could legitimately afford it, maybe even with some financial finagling, would I give it to her? Would I give her the tools necessary - within reason - to help her pursue her goals & dreams?
Yes. In a heartbeat.
Would I make her feel shame & guilt over the way she felt? Absolutely not.
This is how I've decided to treat myself in this situation (and hopefully, in all situations to follow). I invested in a power rack, bench, & leg developer - along with an Olympic-sized bar & weights totaling 300 pounds. Tonight I'm going to look at the !*Brand New*! LA Fitness that opened 5, yes FIVE minutes from my new house. This membership would also grant me access to my beloved Crocker Park LA Fitness <3 Lastly, if I don't already have one by May 28, I am going to invest in a quality bike that fits me. I may have to put it on a credit card, but frankly, Scarlet.... :-)
Why? Because I have goals that mean a great deal to me. Because I am human. Because I care about myself enough to nurture myself with what I need to be happy, and to reach my goals. Because inside of this 28-year-old woman is a little girl who just wants to get better, to reach her goals, and achieve her dreams. She deserves it.
