Thursday, February 5, 2009

Insecure? Me? Yes

My husband sprained his ankle recently. Now he's exercising the great practices of Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation and I'm stuck without an exercise partner. He is the ultimate social support for exercising because I want him to be healthy just as much as I want to be healthy for him. We rarely miss a day of exercise together, but now that he's down for the count, I'm missing exercise like crazy. I'm not only missing it, skipping it, but also missing, longing, for it.

So yesterday I went for a run ....and found out just how insecure I still am.

One of my meetings was cancelled at work so I had an extra hour of time which made running a viable option. I work at a rec center so I usually have some work-out-esque things shoved under my desk. I dug around and found a pair of 3/4 length pants that my mom helped me alter after my tush shrunk, a tank top that was too skimpy for the cold weather, a pair of my favorite socks, and, God help me, my trail running shoes. I lacked a sports bra, but, being not so well endowed, I decided it would be fine just this once. I also lacked a jacket or shirt of the appropriate weight and decided to make do with my north face apex jacket. Better to be hot than cold I figured.

I bundled up my gear and headed for the locker room where the insecurity started. I plunked my bundle on a bench and had commenced changing when a student I work with came in after her workout. We greeted each other and both displayed appropriate locker room disinterest, but I immediately began freaking out about how she might judge me for sporting a standard bra rather than the appropriate sports bra. I wanted to explain that I usually wear one, but just didn't have one. My more rational side stopped me from humiliating myself by reminding me that 1. she probably didn't notice, and 2. she certainly didn't care.

Through the locker room ordeal, I headed out for the run. I felt awkward in my jacket. It felt like I'd just put on my pants with my work clothes on top and gone for a run. Did people think I was ridiculous for running in such a jacket? I felt awkward in my pants, did people notice that the slit wasn't shaped quite correctly from the alteration? Did we manage to maintain the original shape of the pant when we altered it? Did people notice that? I desperately wanted my running tights. I felt awkward in my shoes. I was plodding along with no spring in my step yearning for some cushion, but instead of focusing on how dumb it really was for me to be wearing those shoes and increasing my chances for re injuring my foot, I was focusing on what other people might think. Was I passing serious runners? Did they know I was wearing trail shoes? Did they think I was a fool? I felt like I was plodding; could they tell? I wanted to put a sign on my chest explaining that I do know what shoes to wear on different surfaces and that I just wore them because I really wanted to go for a run.

After I'd made it through all these thoughts, my incredible insecurity struck me. Part of me was still worried, but another part had separated itself from the insecurity to scrutinize the feelings I was having. As you know, I've studied motivation in exercise and spent a substantial amount of time thinking about it and it occurred to me that if I can feel this insecure, other people must be totally overwhelmed with worry. There I was, a runner of sorts, an exerciser certainly, a woman taller than the average woman, lighter than the average woman, doing something healthy for myself and I was insecure. This new scrutinizing part of me pointed out that I was running and had nothing to be ashamed of and further, that I probably intimidate people. When my husband and I go for a walk at lunch, we see lots of people running. They wear big floppy sweats, shorts of various styles, serious running gear, shoes in various states of repair, and have bodies of various shapes and sizes, but I never think about any of it. Perhaps they are wishing that they were invisible and that none of the other runners or walkers could see them run. What a crappy way to feel.

I don't yet know what this has to do with motivation, but I'm working on that. I think it may say something about the exercise "in" crowd and how intimidating we all can be despite our best efforts to make exercise seem accessible. Perhaps it has to do with optimal challenges and creating situations that challenge people, but still allow them to feel success. Maybe it has to do with consciousness raising, and acquainting people to the norms, practices, and opportunities of an activity before they engage. Really, I think it says a lot about social support and the need for experienced exercisers to gracefully escort new exercisers into their world with compassion, generosity, and clarity. I've never felt foolish running with my husband. Clearly he thinks I'm the bees knees so everyone else must think so too...right? Really though, as long as I feel secure, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.

Anyway, I finished my run and it felt pretty good, though my legs felt rather pounded from the poor choice of shoes and I did aggravate my foot injury. Today I'm sporting my real running shoes, because they provide the most support. I'm trying not to be truly stupid about this foot anymore (Don't worry, I know I shouldn't wear them all day very often). You can't wear running shoes if you work just anywhere. Thank goodness for a rec center.

3 comments:

T-Dizzle said...

Hi Kerry,

Thanks for your comment and book recommendation on my post - I'll have to check it out. I think you hit on something in this post that a lot of people go through, and I do too. Last year, I lost about 20 pounds in 3-4 months...and then gained it all back over the course of about 8 months. Today, I'm back where I started (still exercising though), and I feel like EVERYONE is judging me...the people at work are noticing the pants that used to be falling off of me are tight...the people at the gym are wondering what's wrong with me that I can't stay in some kind of good shape...my friends are wishing I didn't look so bloated in all our pictures. But...honestly...probably no one cares. Except for me, of course. But I don't concern myself with other people's weights, and when I see my friends in pictures, I see THEM, not their weight...so I can only assume it's the same with them.

This takes me back to a quote I cut out of a magazine back in college: "you don't flirt when HE looks good...you flirt when YOU do." How we act and behave has more to do with our feelings about ourselves, not our feelings towards others. You felt insecure because you felt you didn't have the right running clothes on. Having the right stuff with you (including your husband) makes you feel better about yourself and helps you perform to your fullest. Which is totally great. What we need to work on is feeling that internal "greatness" even when everything may not be as perfect as it could be...saying "shut it" to the internal critic, and mentally seeing ourselves for who we are. And forgetting everyone else.

PS You are an excellent writer! I really enjoyed reading your entry, and I hope you post another one soon. :)

Lauren @ Sassy Molassy said...

I know what you mean about not have the right workout attire. I nearly have a panic attack when i forget socks, a sports bra or bring the wrong shirt/pants/shorts for the weather/occasion. Usually, I muster through but sometimes i just can't bear to do the workout. And ultimately, we shouldn't worry about what others are thinking because really we're all just out there trying to do something good for our bodies.

Kerry said...

Thanks for the good thoughts! I'm giving the run at work thing a try again today. I'll be working on that internal greatness mentality, and if it doesn't work, I brought all my running stuff today.

Isn't it amazing how much we judge ourselves? I thought it was a uniquely adolescent trait, but I guess it's not. At least it's not quite as severe. Remember the middle school locker rooms? Ugh.