The Worth of Movement

Just some background so you know where this is coming from: I have always been overweight. I don’t really remember a time when I was thin, however the bulk (no pun intended) of my weight gain happened the summer between nine and ten years old. I nearly doubled in bodyweight and I went to several doctors who couldn’t explain why. So, I was fat. I grew up fat; I knew I was fat; my family knew I was fat; my friends knew I was fat; and being fat was a problem – for lots of reasons, but my message today is about just one of those problems in particular: movement.

Moving was hard for me – not because I was lazy, but because I felt “lumberous” and awkward. I didn’t move as well as other kids because I couldn’t move as well as other kids – there was so much more of me to move around. I grew up believing that maybe “being active” just wasn’t in the cards for me. And yet, I longed for that. I wanted to be active; I wanted to move as well as other guys my age. I wanted to be thin and athletic. I wanted to move with confidence and ease, like they did.

But I was afraid.

For one, I thought I would hurt myself if I tried to heave my ponderous bulk along the asphalt, whether walking, running, biking or otherwise. Also, after years of being sedentary, I was afraid that I would injure myself from trying to do ANY exercise and from not knowing how to use good form. Of course, my biggest (again, no pun intended) fear was going to the gym. Wow, could there be any other more perfect place where I felt like I did NOT “fit” in? (Pun totally intended this time.)

The gym was terrifying in that there were contraptions that looked more like torture devices than exercise equipment. But more than that, I was afraid of the people in the gym. I felt ashamed of my body and inferior on any given day – but put me next to a hot, muscular, athletic guy and you might as well stick a fork in me, because I’m done! I couldn’t even picture myself in the gym, working out next to these toned, athletic hunks (or meatheads, depending on the gym!). It was a foreign country and even  though the people there looked like their lives were so much better than mine, I just couldn’t fathom trying to learn their language and customs; again, because of fear.

I was afraid of how stupid I would look, not knowing how to work any of the machines. I was afraid of how much people were going to look down on me or look at me and laugh – as if they thought I was fighting a losing battle or wasting my time. I lived with these fears for years. Years and years and years; longing to be like those guys in the gym, but believing that I wasn’t worth it.

And then one day, at the ripe old age of 35, my life fell apart. Without boring you with the details, I had moved states for a job that didn’t work out; I was unable to find a job, living off my rapidly dwindling savings, waking up nightly with panic attacks, trudging through the days in full-on depression and realizing the problem was me – because I was afraid… of everything. And I knew I needed to face my fears.

I decided to start with one of the riskiest and hardest fears I’d known – I bought a gym membership. Man, that was hard! Just going through the doors for the first time was like facing down a charging rhino; but I did it. I met Kevin, one of the lead personal trainers. Kevin was a good looking guy and in good shape – not, like, just walked off a magazine cover or anything, but just in good shape; enough that I felt really self-conscious around him. But Kevin got it – he got where I was coming from and he understood that just coming to the gym was a challenge – it took me awhile to realize it was actually quite a large a victory.

Kevin taught me about using the i̶m̶p̶l̶e̶m̶e̶n̶t̶s̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶o̶r̶t̶u̶r̶e̶ exercise equipment, but more than that he focused on movement and helped me learn the basics of lifting, squatting, pushing, pulling, etc. I got stronger and it felt great. I truly believed that what happened next was a result of me learning to move better and getting stronger. I was meditating one night when I saw in my mind flashes of two experiences that I had completely forgotten – repressed, actually. I recalled being molested by two different men, once at the age of six and once at the age of nine. These memories just about shattered me completely. Why would I connect the recollection of these repressed memories to getting stronger in the gym?

For two reasons: 1) I had proved to myself that I was ready and capable of facing my fears; 2) I was getting physically stronger, which meant I could physically endure the visceral recollection of the harm my body endured.

For those who might be curious, yes, I did seek out and received some excellent counseling to deal with this new emotional onslaught. But I also kept moving; I kept going to the gym. I worked out at this gym for about a year, until I decided I needed to move back home (to Utah). Once home, I found a new gym to go to. You know what? I was still afraid to walk in those doors! Even though I had spent about a year exercising, learning and improving, I was still afraid. What if this gym had different equipment that I don’t know how to use? (It did.) What if there were super athletic people there who look down and me and make me feel bad about how heavy I still am just by looking at them? (There were. [I still remember you, little-blue-shorts-guy!!]) What if I looked stupid or awkward because, even after a year, I’m still only just learning how to move? (I did.)

But it was also this gym that lead me to Craig and Kathryn; where I learned even more about nutrition and functional movement (I puked after my first time pushing an un-weighted sled for 4 lengths of 50 feet each!). I learned even more about the benefits of movement and even though I wasn’t losing much weight, I was moving better, I was getting stronger, and I was feeling better about myself.

Through Craig and Kathryn I connected with Chirofusion (sport chiropractors Chad and Janson) and they helped me understand functional movement even more. Life went on. I ended up moving away for a year, then moving back home and this time – thanks to Chad at Chirofusion – I connected with Michael at Wasatch Fitness Academy (WFA).

WFA is ALL about MOVEMENT! Functional movement – bodyweight exercises, sleds, slam balls, sandbags, kettlebells, TRX bands, and so on, but the focus is always on safe, efficient, proper form and movement. I have had some amazing results from working with Michael, but for me personally, the most profound revelation I’ve had is this: I can move. Even overweight, even heavyset, even morbidly obese (which I have been medically labeled by every doctor I’ve ever had!), even uncoordinated, awkward, uncomfortable me – I can move! And not only can I move, but I can move well. I’ve actually had my share of injuries already and had to scale back, adjust or even omit particular exercises at times, but I kept moving.

Why is that such a revelation? Because I spent SO MANY years afraid; afraid that I couldn’t move, that I wasn’t built for it, that I would never be able to be active. I was never able to see myself in a gym like WFA, because I was afraid I couldn’t do it, or that I didn’t belong there. But I was wrong. I can do it and I do belong there. I belong there because I WANT to be there and because I keep showing up and I keep moving. In all honesty, I still have days where I compare myself to other gym members – and yes, I’m still the fattest guy in the room (for now!) – but I can move! And the more I move, the less there is of me to move!

I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic, but I truly feel that “movement” saved my life. Movement made me stronger; movement gave me more confidence; movement caused me to face some dark memories and helped me work through them; movement has caused me to change the way I see myself and challenged what I believe about the world; movement has caused me to improve my mental and emotional function on every level. I firmly believe that none of those changes would have been possible without challenging myself physically – without movement. For me personally, the worth of movement in my life cannot be calculated.

What is movement worth to you?