I was a shy kid in elementary school and junior high. I hated confrontation, wasn’t competitive in sports and received little attention from my classmates outside of being made fun of and called faggot. My experience was not unlike that of our own Allen Durgin as he relates it in “Playing for the Other Team”.
But then, at age fifteen, I discovered weight training and fell in love immediately. My body responded swiftly and after only six months of lifting weights in my parents’ basement I had packed on twenty pounds of muscle. It made me feel more masculine and attractive. The attacks, both physical and verbal, diminished as my size grew, and it felt empowering to be able to wield some control in my intimidating world. I also needed something to calm my anxieties and provide a lift during my times of depression. I very well could have settled on pot or alcohol but instead choose endorphins as my drug of choice, quickly developing a nasty addiction.
The first realization I was becoming obsessive came at the age of nineteen. Everything revolved around my workout. Some days I would even skip class to take a nap in my car before lifting. One particularly crisp December day I was driving to the gym for what was to be a perfect chest workout— I was well rested, had timed my last meal perfectly and was on course to arrive at the gym just as my blood sugar was peaking— when I noticed my temperature gauge. The small leak I had in my radiator just blew out the last of the coolant and my engine was overheating. I needed to pull over, wait for it to cool down and refill it with fluid, but all this would throw off the perfect timing of my chest workout. So I ignored the needle, driving it deeper into the warning zone, praying to make it just a few more miles. That’s when I heard the awful knock. I had just willingly blown my engine; the block was cracked, a rod was thrown and my workout would never be. The latter being the most painful part.
Back then I joked about how my only addiction was exercise, but in hindsight it was no joke.
I have since made great progress in my relationship with fitness. I no longer judge the value of myself by the size or appearance of my body, and working out is one enjoyable part of my day instead of the center of it. I now know that even seemingly healthy and socially approved habits can affect my life in unhealthy ways. I used to focus solely on getting to the gym and not on the engine that was going to me there. But today, I focus on the engines of health: nurturing relationships, participating in a variety of physical activities, even attending a lecture or two.
Jamie Dreyer is the President of Further Fitness NYC.
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December 9th, 2008 at 7:52 am
In grammar school and high school I was not shy, I was competitive in class, in basketball and swimming, I was voted Most Popular, and I was never called a faggot. Boy did I have them hoodwinked…. Seriously, your piece is great, full of honesty and emotion, and extremely well-written. You’re turning into quite a writer. Having had the fun to know you when you were 19, I recall how obsessed you were with body image and size when we first met. How you ate every two hours, shit every hour, and never missed a workout. Keep up the good writing, maybe there’s a book somewhere in your future.
December 9th, 2008 at 8:40 am
Great piece Jamie.
I respect your hindsight revelation that your addiction to working out was no joke, but let me share some of the peripheral benefits of that addiction while growing up with you:
1) Look at those hot girls on the beach- Jamie, can you go over there and talk to them for us? We’ll be right behind you.
2) I was 17 and looked 13. You were 15 and looked 21. I can’t believe you were able to buy beer for everyone at 15 with no fake ID.
Great job with Further Fitness Jamie- keep up the good work.
Kieran
December 10th, 2008 at 8:44 am
Good post buddy,
As I lived through this back in the day and saw it bloom to that full on addiction, I am still not really sure how you got through that week in Meade Wilderness camp with out a workout.
I can also contest to your addiction buddy, as I do recall a Pearl Jam concert that you couldn’t make due to the conflict of missing a work out or eating the wrong foods on a road trip. Reflection is a funny thing, you should join me on one of my trips and see where your mind takes you.
cheers
Brian
December 12th, 2008 at 11:04 am
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December 18th, 2008 at 8:11 am
Thanks for sharing Jaime.
It’s great to hear personal stories of how fitness has affected people’s lives, in both good and bad ways. it helps give perspective.
Well done.
Jonathan