It’s getting very unhealthy in here.
“blessed be
she
who is
both
furious
and
magnificent”
Taylor Rhodes, calloused: a field journal
So I’ve been working out a lot, a lot more than earlier in the quarantine because now I’ve done a whole Chloe Ting program and I’ve designed my own schedule. I work out 5 times a week and I’m incorporating more varied workouts. It’s nothing too intense because I don’t lift: I don’t have weights and I’m not going to a public gym in a pandemic. For the most part, it’s been good. I have more energy, more stamina, strength and flexibility.
I’m also more insecure and obsessed over what I look like.
I’ve always been skinny and I had gotten so used to people telling me to eat or making jokes about me being blown away by the wind that it was just water down my back. But back then then, I was also supposed to be happier about being skinny because everyone wanted to be.
Except me, of course.
I’ve always struggled with gaining weight because I have really high metabolism and I was always a very active child. So for the past couple of years I’ve tried to bulk up in some respect.
And working out is good for me I know, but it has me hung up over the results. I spend HOURS thinking about why I don’t look like Pamela Reif or Chloe Ting yet or even any of the people that do their little challenges and stuff, they all get results quicker than me, like what am I doing wrong?
Because of this I’m so aggressive about working out often because I have this fear that I won’t get results as quick if I miss this one day. And I get so exhausted and physically burnt-out but I do it all over again because it will all be worth it if I have a nice ass, right?
It’s exhausting. I just want to be able to do a workout and not be itching to run to a mirror and be disappointed in what I see. I want to be able to go back to some of my pictures and videos and not cringe. And I don’t really know how to deal with it but I’m hoping that writing about it can be a first step.
xx
Naomi.
