Why I Skipped the Gym Today

Beginning in grade school and continuing through college, I suffered through anorexia that was fueled by hypochondria, massive anxiety, a desire for control, and an unplumbed depth of self-loathing. As I entered my twenties, one by one those demons fell away. I learned through therapy to keep anxiety in check. Hypochondria was replaced with a real medical diagnosis and cure. I gained a certain amount of personal control through adulthood, and eventually I wanted to be a good example for my children. Several years ago, that eating disorder demon showed up again, this time disguised as fear. I had become afraid of getting older, of becoming unattractive to my spouse, of losing control of my life and that of my family. But coupled with not eating, I turned a direction I didn’t see coming: over-exercise. It started innocently enough, as a way to meet people and get stronger.

But I couldn’t find balance or moderation.

I began restricting my diet, exercising so early in the morning I cut my sleep time in half, and limiting my availability to my family because I was compulsive about gym time. I kept thinking if I added in one more 5 am bootcamp plus the second weekly spin class, I could find peace of mind. Some people do find meaning through exercise. I did not. I found a lifetime of repressed fear manifested on the treadmill. I was glued to the scale, anxious about my size, and desperately seeking validation for my physical appearance in unhealthy ways. Yet I told myself I was living my best life.

What an absolute waste of time.  

At 8:30 pm one evening, waiting on my daughter to finish up at dance class, all I could think about was the 4:15 am alarm I had set and how I was already so so tired. I started to cry and by the time Isabelle got out to the car it was impossible to hide it. I sobbed in misery, too upset to drive, drained even further as I watched the clock tick even later. It was at this moment when I finally said enough. Enough of this. I’m destroying myself to look a certain way because I thought that weight, that size, is the key to happiness and once I’m happy, I won’t be afraid. What a lie! Instead, I was missing everything. My body ached, my heart hurt, and I quit recognizing the signs of physical hunger which is something I had worked so hard to learn. I was going through workouts, running miles, skipping meals, like I was dog-paddling through my life, barely keeping my head above water.

I still don’t know why it all came into focus at exactly that moment, but I am so glad it did.

Because just like that, I was done.  I quit the obsessive calorie counting, all the classes at the Y, running, all of it. Finally, my body got the rest it needed to quit hurting. My shin splints and other physical injuries finally healed. I started sleeping 7 hours a night. I stopped crying all the time. I rediscovered time to hang out with my children and to invest in their activities. I also gained some weight. As my core weakened, I suffered through terrible back problems. I became isolated from friends both physically and emotionally because I could not share in their exercise and diet plans anymore. I did not exercise for almost a year. Eventually, I found I love yoga. I still dislike running but I love taking long walks. Now I put exercise on my schedule for everyday of the week. Sometimes I have a day where it doesn’t work out.  But I know I’m done with the disorder part of exercise because I don’t panic about those days or radically adjust my calories. I call fear by its name and tell it to get out of my house.

My relationship to food has been complicated for most of my life.

Daily I remind myself to practice moderation in all things. My husband insists on keeping the scale for his use but I have learned to avoid it, lest I start down another unhealthy road. As I am now the mother of a teenager daughter, I watch her for signs I’m sure my own mother never knew to look for and encourage her to love herself and jump head first into scary things so she is never ruled by quiet dark fear. I will probably never run in another race. I will just as likely never again be a size 8. But I want to continue to laugh at every opportunity, stay up too late on a school night, have a second glass of wine, and never turn down birthday cake again.

To me, that’s a fair trade.

National Eating Disorder Awareness Week is February 26 – March 4. If you are struggling, reach out for help! Kind, non-judgmental counselors are ready and waiting to listen.


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Kristina Haahr
Kristina is an El Dorado native who spent a lot of years trying to live "anywhere else.” She returned to El Dorado with husband Chuck (m. 1994) and their children Isaac (b. 1998) and Isabelle (b. 2003). A SAHM for 16 years, Kristina is now a wine rep for Demo Sales Inc., living her dream of a wine-saturated life. Kristina is a Geographer (BS K-State), Historian (MA WSU), and wrangler of two tiny dogs. She loves to travel, shop for shoes, and spend time with her teenagers, though she’s probably on her back porch saying “there’s no place like home.”