My fitness journey, like many others, began during the COVID-19 pandemic and the initial lockdown. After binging Tiger King and making way too much whipped coffee, I felt it was the best time to get ahead on my health while the world had come to a halt. I mean I did have an absurd amount of free time on my hands, but most of that time was spent doing unhealthy hobbies.Â
I started with cardio, but God did that suck. That whole “runners high” thing is the biggest slice of bologna I have ever heard. I felt really bad about myself for being so “out of shape” that I was not able to run a mile in under 10 minutes. I ran every day trying to improve my times, but never was able to accomplish my goal. So naturally, I gave up. I thought this would make me feel better but it didn’t. This was because I obviously did not do everything I could to help my health. I wanted to feel healthy, be strong, and overall, have better mental health. I started with lifting light weights, a few dumbbell exercises, and plenty of varied squats. I was surprised when I actually noticed a difference. I could crush any flight of stairs without my legs wanting to collapse, and hell, I could even do a real military pushup. I was now taking my health much more seriously and found joy in doing so.
After about three months, I was noticeably bigger, with a strong athletic build. I was fully immersed in gym life. I was following various fitness content creators on social media, buying adorable gym outfits, changing my diet to a primarily protein and carb diet, and I felt amazing. This was when my fitness journey took a turn. People were no longer seeing me as a girl trying to better herself at the gym, I was now some sort of freak. Comments from close friends like, “well, you don’t want to get too big” would shake my Earth to its core, because that was quite literally my only goal, to get as big as I could. It bothered me that the only reason I would receive that comment was because I was born with boobs. I mean I’ve never heard of anyone telling a guy not to get too big. The door of inequality in fitness burst open once I was exposed to it. The unwritten rules of the gym practically jumped out at me, and I did not agree with them. For the following months, I would continue to feel the shimmer of shame as I went to the gym. I could sense the eyes of judgemental boomers on me as I walked towards the “men only” side of the gym every day. One unwritten rule was that the bigger weights belonged to the men’s side of the gym whereas the treadmills and five-pound weights belonged to the women’s side.
These stereotypes slowly drove me crazy. Finally, I made the executive decision to take a break. It had become no longer a destresser and it was no longer just working out to stay healthy. At this point, my motives had shifted to try and prove myself to all the ignorant gym-goers. It was the opposite of healthy.Â
After taking a three-month break and moving into my fall semester dorm, I decided it was once again time to return to the gym, only this time at a new gym. A bigger gym with a less varied clientele, aka the Recreation Center. I was dreading the entire experience altogether, but to my surprise, I wasn’t anxious because I was afraid of being seen as some huge aggressive monster, but because I was one of the smallest aggressive monsters out there. Big, strong, powerful women striving to be the best they could be surrounded me.
At this moment I was finally able to look at the bigger picture: the gym was always there for me, and it still is, but we humans just have a funny way of overcomplicating even the purest of life’s gifts. You should strive for the body that you feel comfortable in, the body that makes you feel empowered and beautiful — whatever that means to you — not the body that others expect you to have.
Can’t get enough of HC UMass Amherst? Be sure to follow us on Instagram, listen to us on Spotify, like us on Facebook, and read our latest Tweets!Â