How I'm Overcoming Gym Anxiety

Let's get real for a minute... This week I went back to the gym after about four years away. Last time I set foot in one was while I was pregnant with my oldest, who is now three! I've dabbled in home workouts between then and now, but haven't stuck with anything consistently. I will put in a plug here for those Beachbody coaches though; I've seen some AMAZING success stories come from that program!

Anyway, we signed up for a family membership at our closest YMCA last week and I was PUMPED! I started looking up workout plans and was ready to get started. Years ago, I wasn't too bad at weightlifting and planned to get back into it. I wanted to build muscle and do some cardio to lose the baby weight I haven't been able to shed yet.

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This past Monday was our first time going. I waited all day for Kyle to get home from work so we could go try it as a family for the first time. I blew the dust off my tennis shoes, put on leggings, and a tank top. I wanted to make sure I blended in and looked like I belonged there. (You can laugh; it's probably funny that I put so much thought into my outfit when it really doesn't matter to anyone else what I'm wearing.) I grabbed my old Adidas knapsack and packed my earbuds and extra clothes and diapers for the kids, who would be going to the child care room that the YMCA offers. (That has been my excuse for not going to the gym back in Kansas these past several years, no child care...)

We dropped the kids off and walked in to the weight room together. It was in that moment that everything went south. I froze. I looked around at all the dudes in there lifting and didn't see a single female. Typically that wouldn't bother me, but in this moment, it did. I had this feeling welling up inside me that prompted a fight or flight feeling so I decided I would go check out the rest of the machines in the adjoining room. I walked through, glancing around, but not really seeing anything because the anxiety had escalated into what may have been turning into what I might label as a panic attack. Honestly, I still can't really describe the feeling I had, but I know I was near tears as I busted out of there and went to sit in the lobby while Kyle finished his usual workout.

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I sat in that chair until I'd gotten a text from the child care desk telling me my son needed a diaper change. It was honestly a major relief to go do something I knew I was capable of and comfortable doing.

My husband and I talked about it on the drive home as I tried to describe why it went the way it did. He told me he thought I should try to go again and internally, that was the LAST thing I wanted to do. I wanted to run away as quickly as I can from that place; why on earth would I go back in there? I felt absolutely at war with myself all evening after that, mostly feeling disappointed in myself because this had never happened to me like this before. I've had anxiety since I became a mama but it had never interfered this much, until now. My kids noticed the difference in me that evening also. It's hard to explain to your innocent babies why you are so upset when you don't even understand it yourself.

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But guess what, I did go back. I had a conversation with a friend of mine who lives back in Kansas and she suggested I go back in there and try something small. She actually suggested trying a dark class or just sticking with cardio for now. So the next morning, I loaded up my kids and drove us back there. I dropped them off at the child care desk, and forced myself to walk through the building to wait for the yoga class I had decided on. I didn't realize it would be dark at the time, but it's like God knew that's what I needed to get started. They never turned the lights on and I was able to get through this awesome, low-impact class. After that, I walked a little taller as I picked up the kids and headed home.

So there it is. I had successfully gone back into the place that gave me nothing but irrational fear. God and I have gone back and forth with this anxiety business. He helps me overcome time and time again, and I continue to forget that I'm not alone.

Now, am I completely over it? No. I still won't go lift in the weight room, but I have gone back and realized how out of shape I am on the treadmill, and explored some of the other machines they have to offer. Slow and steady wins the race, but you won't win the race if you quit. It's not easy to lay the smackdown on anxiety like this, but I feel like I'm winning.

If you struggle with gym anxiety, I'd love to hear what you have done to get past it. I'm confident that each time I go in there it will get easier, and eventually I won't feel it at all anymore. It will just become so natural that I will wonder why I ever felt this way in the first place.

Thanks for tuning in to my latest story.