
If you’ve joined my WhatsApp channel, you’ll know that for the past number of weeks, I’ve been walking. And if you’ve been tuning in regularly, you’ll have also heard me say almost daily, I hate exercise. Let me be clear. I’m not walking to lose weight. I’m not trying to hit a certain step count. There’s no spreadsheet, no targets, no progress chart. I’ve started walking for one reason only: to get my body moving. That’s it. Because, quite frankly, I haven’t been looking after it.
Exercise has always been a tricky space for me and more so since becoming a mother. I know I’m not alone in this. It’s probably a tale that’s all too familiar. There’s the physical side, the time it takes., and of course, there’s the emotional weight of it all. Body image, diet culture, years of messaging around health, worth and size. It’s exhausting. Sometimes the idea of exercising drains me more than the act itself. If I can’t slot it into my everyday life, I won’t do it. If I don’t enjoy the activity, even when it’s hard, I won’t do it. And so I do nothing. Which doesn’t help either. So I’ve changed my approach, and importantly, I’ve changed my language. I no longer say “I have to exercise.” Now I just say, “I’m going for a walk.” That tiny shift in words has changed something for me. My aim is to walk every day. If I miss a day, no big deal. I’ll walk tomorrow. That’s the rhythm I’m working with now. There’s no urgency or pressure. If one day I feel like walking faster, or going further, or even going a bit slower, it is all fine. Not rules. Not deadlines.
Last week I was listening to Mamamia Out Loud, an Australian podcast, and they were talking about jealousy. It really stuck with me. You know when you hear something and suddenly it starts popping up everywhere? That’s what happened. Since listening to that episode, the theme of jealousy has been following me around. And then came the moment that really hit home. I was scrolling, and came across a post from a professional stylist I follow. She had posted a photo of herself in the gym. It was 4:30am. The caption was something along the lines of, “If your kids are up by 5:30am, you’ve got to get your workout in early.” And before I even finished reading, I muttered, “F*%$ off.” Just like that. Out loud.
And there it was. Jealousy. Pure, raw, jealousy.
It honestly stopped me. I don’t think of myself as a jealous person, but there it was, loud and clear. I had to ask myself, what exactly was I jealous of? Was it her? No. I don’t even know her. Was it her life? Maybe, or at least the version of it I’ve imagined. So then I asked myself, if I had everything I think she has, the energy, the time, the childcare, the motivation, would I get up at 4:30am and go to the gym? No. I wouldn’t. Not at 4:30am. Not at any time, actually.
That’s when I realised, it wasn’t jealousy. I may not have liked what I saw, or how it made me feel, but that reaction was about me, not her. Her post might’ve reminded me of what I’m not doing, but once I sat with that discomfort, it became clear: part of that is my choice. I may not always like my choices, but they’re mine and I have to own them, regardless of what I see on social media.
So yes, I still hate exercise. That part hasn’t changed. But I’m walking anyway. Not to change my body. Not to track my progress. Not to impress anyone. I’m walking because I need to take care of myself. And right now, this is all I can manage.
Want to stay connected and follow my walking journey (plus a few other musings along the way)?
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Jo @motherdragon