{This is a rant. You have been warned.}
Is it just me, or do any other “workout junkies” out there constantly feel pressured into justifying their love for fitness?
And, while we’re on this subject, does the following soapbox speech sound vaguely familiar?
“But, forreeeeal. I like the burn. It’s calming. Invigorating. Liberating, even!”
“Please don’t judge me.”
I digress. Maybe it’s a by-product of personal insecurities, but I find myself repeating that defensive mantra…a lot.
So, here’s the sitch: I am unabashedly passionate about maintaining a strong, toned and healthy physique, which often elicits both thinly veiled skepticism and outright condemnation from those, who view exercise as a necessary evil or instrument of torture.
Whether we’re talking crunches during a Friends marathon, yoga after a taxing 9–5, or even a brisk weekend hike, the more often others catch me engaging in physical activities, the more judgment I perceive from them.
What these skeptics apparently can’t reconcile, though, is that some of us might choose sweating in our Nike’s over lounging with a remote.
Nor have they considered the outrageous possibility that we might actually want to stay routinely active.
Not as penance for sneaking Cheetos.
Not as a miserable last resort because…well, skinny jeans.
But, because we freaks of nature associate exercise with personal empowerment rather than self-inflicted punishment.
Groundbreaking, huh?
I’ll just give you a minute to recover from your mind being blown.
Excuse the sarcasm, but occasional passive aggression is soothing for the soul. Besides, this is honestly how I feel whenever someone fixes me with a suspicious sidelong glare and demands, “You’re working out AGAIN?!?!” Voice dripping with accusatory condescension.
YES. Yes, I am. How astute of you to notice, person with functioning eyeballs.
Admittedly, I’ve flirted with the impulse to overexert myself. In the past, I even experienced addictive highs from going “too hard.” Therefore, I understand better than most of my accusers how difficult striking a healthy balance can be.
But progress is a thing, people!
“That girl who cried PHAT” — she’s no longer me. Once upon a time, maybe. But not anymore. I refuse to still be defined by how she would behave. The fact remains it took hardcore effort and commitment to sculpt this vigorous, muscular body, and — sorry, not sorry — I won’t quit now.
Exercise will never not be an integral part of my daily life.
So, to my fellow fitness aficionados who’ve been disputed or scoffed at for simply doing what you love: Haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate (Taylor Swift lyrics, anyone?).
Don’t stop. Don’t agonize over this lack of acceptance. Just keep fueling your passion.
No guilt. No apologies. No shame.
Just. Pure. Awesomeness.
{End rant.}
Health Be A Hippie 