Exercise is a core pillar of health, mental wellness, and longevity. It’s also my favorite activity in the world. I can spend hours under a barbell, cranking the assault bike, or hitting the heavy bag, and I’m confident I’m not alone in this sentiment. Every day, millions of folks of every ethnic, cultural, and socioeconomic background engage in some type of exercise or sport. But for many of us, fitness is more than physical activity; it’s medicine for the mind.
Sometimes, working out is enough to keep us trudging forward during difficult life circumstances. The track, gym, or pitch becomes a safe space we can retreat to for a few hours to regain our bearings. We learn to find joy in the grind and test the boundaries of our physical and mental fortitude. But what happens when fitness becomes less of a mental wellness tool and more of a crutch?
My fitness journey began in high school. At the time, I was struggling with a nasty bout of OCD. Intrusive thoughts were a daily occurrence, and the constant thought-compulsion cycle left me utterly drained by the end of the school day. The gym allowed me to shift focus away from my head and into my body. Years later, when I finally began receiving treatment for my OCD, I learned just how profoundly beneficial exercise is for incorporating mindfulness into my day-to-day.
Unfortunately, my relationship with exercise would soon take a toxic turn. My senior year was marred by self-esteem and body image issues. I spent an unhealthy amount of time obsessing over every detail of my physical appearance. I wanted to feel good about myself, and I thought ‘looking good’ was the only way to do so. I couldn’t do much to change my face, but I knew I could change my body through exercise. So naturally, I did exactly that. I would spend hours in the gym every day lifting weights that were too heavy and eating too little in an effort to get ‘shredded.’
I burned myself out. I lost interest in fitness, and a helpful stress-reduction tool became another compulsion to temper my obsessions. My relationship with fitness is far healthier these days. I reflect on these moments to remind myself how rapidly the line between healthy habits and harmful escapism blurs when mental illness is involved.
The bottom line is this: Fitness is a potent tool for improving mood, focus, productivity, and general psychological well-being, but it is not a substitute for therapy. If you’re struggling with mental health issues, remember the following:
- Lifting weights is not an antidote to body dysmorphia.
- Combat sports are not an alternative for anger management.
- The track is for running, not running away from your issues.
Seeking professional help from a licensed mental health practitioner (i.e., psychotherapy, psychiatry, etc.) should be your primary source of mental wellness. The therapeutic techniques you learn will allow you to address your root issues and live a happier, more fulfilling life.
Once you’ve laid the therapeutic foundation of your wellness, exercise becomes a powerful addition to your overall mental health routine. The two work symbiotically and can radically transform your physical and emotional well-being. Replacing one for the other is not an optimal strategy for maximizing your quality of life. You can’t heal childhood trauma with deadlifts like you can’t build muscle, strength, or cardiovascular endurance with cognitive behavioral therapy. So why not do both?