Dear Exercise

Last week, I was challenged to write a letter to exercise. Which was tricky, because my relationship with exercise is…complicated, at best.

I thought I would share, because exercise is such a big topic – not just in the eating disorder world, but in our society in general. We praise those who spend hours in the gym, or run marathons, or post sweaty selfies on social media.

I wonder, if you were to write a letter like this, what it would look like? What would you say? What do you need to say about your relationship with exercise? Even if it’s not necessarily something you want to say. Even if it’s hard. Even if you don’t know what to say…what do you think exercise might have to say to you? What do you wish your relationship with exercise and movement could look like?

I encourage you to write it down. Grab a pen and paper, and just start with “Dear Exercise” – you may be surprised what comes up for you. (I know I was…)

Dear Exercise,

I miss you. I miss you the way you miss someone that has died…like someone that was here one day and gone the next.

I miss you, and at the same time, I really, really don’t. To say it’s complicated doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface.

I’m trying to think of a time when we had a healthy relationship, but nothing comes to mind. That makes me sad, because you’ve been such a huge part of my life for so long. But my eating disorder has taken control of this relationship, and I haven’t had an active role in it in more than a decade. I simply do what my ED tells me to do.

When my ED says run, I say how far? When it says lift, I say how much? When it says do it again, I obey – no questions asked.

I don’t even know what I enjoy anymore. I don’t know what I like or what I want or if it’s even possible to move my body because I want to anymore.

I ran half marathons because I was told to. I spent 4+ hours a day working out because I was told to. My eating disorder is a harsh dictator.

So, when I say I miss you, it’s so confusing. Because I don’t miss that. I don’t miss the exhaustion and the weakness. I don’t miss feeling backed into a corner.

But oh, how I miss the feeling of invincibility you gave me. I miss feeling strong because I could push through extreme discomfort and injury. I miss feeling powerful because I could spend more hours exercising than anyone else I knew, AND still manage an 80-hour-a-week job and a social life.

All of those feelings should have made me ecstatic. I should have been happy, or at least fulfilled.

But I wasn’t.

The more I exercised, the emptier I felt. The stronger I felt, the weaker I felt. It was a strange sort of a paradox.

Over the past year, we’ve taken a break. And I’ve missed you.

But I’ve also learned so much about myself.

I’ve learned that I can feel strong without pushing through illness and injury.

I’ve learned that I can feel powerful by standing up for what I believe and asking for what I need – not just for exercising more than anyone else I know.

I’ve learned my worth has nothing to do with how far or fast I can run, how much I can lift, how many hours I can spend exercising, or what my body looks like. My worth has nothing to do with you.

I hope one day, things will be different between us. I hope I can truly enjoy you, without abusing you. I hope I can approach you with openness rather than obligation. I hope we can learn to have a loving, joyful relationship.

But until then, I can commit to approaching you with curiosity. I can commit to learning more about myself, my needs, and how they fit in with you. I know there is more ahead for us, and I’m ready to find out what that looks like.

If you choose to write your own letter to exercise, I would love to hear about your experience. What was it like to explore that relationship? What came up for you? How does your current relationship with exercise differ than the relationship you want to have with it?

Let me know!