Reflections on Gym Days, Depression and Permission to Take a Break

I gave myself a break today. The Hoosier Athletic Club burpee challenge I'm chipping away at allows burpees completed within class workouts to count toward your 5,000. When I checked yesterday, I had passed the 600 point. I have until August 26th to complete the challenge.

For CrossFit burpees, chest and thighs have to touch the ground before we jump and clap.

Giving myself permission to not do burpees was surprisingly difficult. I've been doing at least 31 every weekday after class, and I usually pair the movement with another workout. The physical fatigue keeps my anxiety at bay. The endorphins released during exercise keeps my depression at bay. I suppose my fear was that I would lapse back into sadness if I "skipped" a day of burpees.

Depression for me looks like full body pain and not being able to convince myself to move. I get little done, and my inner voice is not very kind to be about it. As a result, I am often deeply frustrated and struggle to stay even-tempered with my kids (aka not be irritated at them for being kids). I want them to know they are loved. Depression doesn't make that love go away.

Before I left the gym this morning, I stood around for a long time thinking about whether or not I should be working out. A few of us from the 9AM class were talking. One was a man in med school. He commented that my physique has changed dramatically (in a totally non-creepy way). I stopped to think about my body. I have been eating for exercise and clear thinking. I've dropped about 35 pounds. But I've never really considered what that change looks like to other people. Especially those like this man who I only see around once a month.

Is it startling? What I look like now? I have lost quite a bit of weight. I also gained some back, but that's because my body composition is changing. Once I got down to the weight that works best for my knees, I put full power into increasing the amount of work I do daily to build up strength and endurance. And it's showing, apparently, because Mr. Med School was not the only classmate to stop and comment that my body is changing. I had wiped my face with my shirt at one point and one of the women was taken aback by the core definition I've developed.

Realizing I have no idea what I look like to other people was a wake up call for me. I have been working so hard for the inner gains. The effort is showing in outer gains. It's a great feeling to recognize this, but it's also startling. Of course moving from 3 to 4 to 5 to essentially 10 workouts per week has translated to visibly altered physique. So why have I not been celebrating those accomplishments?

A hilarious moment in class that clarifies my lack of self-awareness happened last week: I was doing back squat with a partner. When I tried to motivate her by making up a cheer and flexing, I was shocked by my arms because I had a muscle. My partner powered up through laughter when I caught sight of my own arm and gasped.

But almost as quickly as I saw my gains, I forgot about them. They are and aren't my focus. And maybe they should get more focus. Here's the thing: seeing what I've accomplished makes resting easier. Not that I want to slow down, but I do need to take time for recovery now and again. Especially on days like today when depression isn't a factor. I feel very mentally well. Yesterday was a different story and I needed that bonus workout I did.

What am I saying here? I'm thinking out loud. I need to give myself permission to take breaks without judging myself for it. Not nice thoughts have been running around in my head since I decided I wouldn't do a set of bonus burpees today (or at least straight after class). Results are happening in mind and body even when I take a break. This is important. And now that I know it, I'm not letting it go.

Reflections on Gym Days, Depression and Permission to Take a Break

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