The Long and Winding Road to Exercise
It really wasn't working out (pun totally intended).
For as long as I remember, I’ve wanted to exercise regularly.
This was for a variety of reasons: back in university I wanted to be a runner (because it felt cool), then after graduation I wanted to get into yoga (also because it was cool), then for a few years after the motivation was to lose weight, then recently it evolved to just a desire to “be fit.”
Looking back, much of my lack of success in establishing a regular exercise routine was probably due to not having very good reasons for it. Wanting to run/do yoga because it was “cool” was hardly enough to sustain extended effort.
I distinctly remember, back when I was living in the UK, how difficult it was to muster the willpower to go for a run. And this was when I was living close to multiple scenic routes that I would now die for. I remember buying fancy exercise gear just to have it sit in the closet, gathering dust. I bought a fancy long-sleeved running jacket so I could run in the cold, used it once on a cold and rainy morning, and never touched it again.
Then, during the yoga phase, I signed up to a popular yoga studio in downtown Bangkok and attempted to go regularly. It took considerable effort and I kept up with it for a few months. But then, one day, I just stopped and never went back.
During this time, I looked on, envious, at those who exercised regularly and seemed to enjoy it. This was not a word I used in conjunction to exercise. Sure, I felt physically good after a run or a yoga session. But I never really enjoyed the process.
Fast forward many years, I was living at home after being discharged from hospital where I had been treated for bipolar disorder. One and a half month of sedentary lifestyle and really yummy meals had left me sorely overweight.
I wanted to lose weight, so I asked my dad to buy me a treadmill. We installed the treadmill at home and for months on end I persisted with my incline speed walks. I got on the treadmill most days of the week and sweated it out for roughly an hour to an hour and a half each time. The accomplishment felt good, but I still didn’t enjoy it.1
Fast forward even more years, I was working and living in downtown Bangkok. I was still struggling with accepting my weight and flabbiness, so when a shiny new gym opened next to my office, I didn’t hesitate. It was a gym that offered classes only (there were no machines), but I loved dancing, and they had dancing.
Joining that gym was probably the turning point in my long and winding road to exercise. I learned a) that it was easy to exercise when it was convenient (I just had to drop in on my way home after work), and b) that I could enjoy exercise.
I remember joining Body Combat classes, experiencing Body Pump for the first time, and the Dance… boy the Dance was delicious. I thoroughly enjoyed sweating it out in those classes. And because I enjoyed it, I didn’t have any trouble doing it regularly.
But then, alas, the gym closed down (turns out not having machines wasn’t a good business decision), and I was back to square one.
By this point, though, I had learned two things. Exercise has got to be convenient and enjoyable for me to sustain it. So I decided, fuck it, I’m going to splash out and join a fancy gym close to home.
I walked in one day and signed up for six months. I tried spinning for the first time, discovered I liked it, and kept going back to my favourite instructors’ classes every week.
I even discovered a love for hot yoga, which was thoroughly surprising, though this love only manifested itself with certain instructors. I had a favourite one, and I went to all his classes.
This was the golden period for my exercise regime. It was good while it lasted…
And then: Covid.
This set me back to square one. I was again living at home. The treadmill, old and creaky by now, was still there, but I never quite mustered the willpower to get on it. I simply didn’t enjoy running/walking on the treadmill. Period.
For a few weeks I did nothing, then my mind got so foggy that I decided to take a walk outside. I walked, and walked, and walked, round and round in our residential complex. To my delight, I enjoyed it.
So long walks in my neighbourhood became my new exercise regime. I’d go out twice a week, sometimes walking for as long as an hour and a half. I’d rejoice in the sun and listen to music or a podcast. Sometimes I just walked.
The long walks continued as I moved to Ho Chi Minh City. Luckily we live in an area where walking isn’t as much of a death wish as it is in most places in Vietnam, so I was able to keep up the practice. Finally, an exercise I truly enjoy and a convenient one to boot; it simply required having a couple of hours free and putting on my running shoes and a cap.
But, and I’m not sure if you’ve noticed this, all this time the exercises I truly enjoyed were outside the house. If I had a treadmill at home, I’d never go on it willingly. The concept of doing calisthenics at home was alien to me. It just wasn’t fun enough.
I did know though that bodyweight exercises would be good for me, and that I needed to build muscle strength. So I engaged a personal trainer and began having sessions in our gym, alongside going for a 4-5km run outside twice a week.
Having a personal trainer to teach me the moves and egg me on made the calisthenics sessions bearable. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it, but I didn’t dread waking up at 5am to go to them.
But then, Covid.2
Out went the personal trainer, then soon also the outdoor runs, as Ho Chi Minh City entered ever stricter levels of lockdown.
Desperate to keep up with an exercise routine, having realised by this point that exercise kept me healthy and in a good mood, I began doing calisthenics at home. I borrowed moves my personal trainer had taught me, made up some of my own. We bought weights, which I began using.
This was momentous. For the first time in my life, I was willingly doing bodyweight exercises at home. And vaguely enjoying it. For the first time, I felt a sense of achievement as I repeated each set. I enjoyed the heart racing, my muscles aching.
I thought this is it. I’ve made it. I’ve become someone who enjoys exercising so much that I can do it at home, unsupervised, twice a week.
But no, there was more.
A month ago a trusted friend recommended to me LES MILLS On Demand. I’d always shied away from online exercise classes (for what reason I’m not even sure). But she was insistent: “There’s a free two-week trial. The variety of classes is great. It’s really good.”
The variety bit piqued my interest, so I checked it out. And there it was: Body Pump, Body Attack, yoga (which I was quite keen to get back into) and… DANCE. They had DANCE. My beloved DANCE.
This pretty much settled it. I signed up.
And now I’m hooked. There are so many types of classes I want to do that it automatically forces me to exercise more frequently. (I’m now up to 3 times a week consistently, sometimes more.)
One day I want cardio, so I’m going for Body Attack. Then I wanted to do weights, so I went for Body Pump. Then of course I wanted to dance, so I did a Sh’Bam (their dance programme). Then I wanted to kick and punch, so I did Body Combat. Then I wanted to stretch and calm my mind, so I did Body Balance (their version of yoga). And this isn’t even all of it. I’ve still got HIIT and ballet and tone and stretch and… that I haven’t tried.
Now I’ve made it. After a decade, I’ve finally reached a point where I truly enjoy exercising, where I look forward to it, where exercise is so effortless that I can do it at home three times a week without it feeling like a chore.
It’s been a long and winding road where, with each turn, I discover a little more about myself and my relationship with exercise. With each step I’ve moved a little closer to a consistent exercise routine.
And I’ve finally succeeded.3
How about you? What’s your exercise routine? Do you have/want one? Where are you on that long and winding road?
Reply, comment, post a letter by pigeon mail. I’d love to hear from you.
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Until next Friday… Stay cool, stay safe, stay thoughtful,
Val
The '“weight losing” part was not successful. I was eating way more than I was exercising, and I spent most of my days vegging out in front of the television.
You may notice a trend here.
Infinite thanks to my friend who was insistent enough that I decided to check out Les Mills.