I read an article a couple of months ago about how exercise and keeping really fit has replaced the cocaine-addicted workaholic lifestyle of the nineties. The author was very disappointed. It was great.

But just because people have opted for a healthier lifestyle does not mean they are happy.

Katherine Ellen Foley wrote peice for Quartz, detailing how she loves exercise and will always work to fit a run into her day, but then a realisation hit her:

I get really anxious if I’m not able to fit in a workout. I take one day off a week to give my joints a break, and find myself itching to go outside and stretch my legs, even if it’s just for 20 or 30 minutes. When I can’t run, I can feel the tension build in my shoulders.

Decisions start to feel finite and of the utmost importance; I start to doubt the ones I’ve made, ranging from big ones like going to graduate school to the mundane like whether or not I used the right words in a text to a friend to try to schedule a time to catch up. I feel self-conscious and want to be alone.

When I run, though, I feel reassured and happy; I actually want to see the friends I’ve made plans with.

Is this a sign of an addiction? Probably.

After detailing a few bouts of research that suggest extreme forms of exercise is addiction, she adds:

According to the American Society of Addiction Medicine, in order for a hobby to evolve into an addiction, it has to meet certain criteria:

It must be something that requires larger and larger amounts in order to have the same initial effect, and has to cause symptoms of withdrawal, like insomnia or irritability, when forgone for a day or two.

Foley then relates her own story:

I can’t say that I haven’t decided to keep pushing myself despite pain I knew was a warning sign of something bigger: In high school, I once I played tennis through pain in my elbow until I was sure I had broken my arm (it turned out to be just a really nasty case of tennis elbow). This winter, I accidentally made myself quite ill because I decided to push through a long run when I had a cold. And just this past weekend, I insisted on getting in my long run, even though I was in the mountains. I forced myself to cover the same distance I normally would, and spent the next three days hobbling (and jogging very slowly) on quads shredded by running up and down huge changes in elevation. In every case, though, I told myself I was just being determined.

But what does it all mean for depression?

Weinstein and his colleagues have found that certain people who exercise compulsively also tend to be the most depressed and anxious. In 2015, he co-authored a small study (paywall) that surveyed 71 amateur and professional athletes, and found a positive link between those who reported compulsive exercising and signs of depression.

That link, though, may not actually tell us much about the overall picture of exercise addiction. It was a small sample size, and participants didn’t report how they felt before they began their compulsive workout regimens; it could be that obsessive exercise may lead to depression or it could mean that depressed people might tend towards obsessive exercise. This study also doesn’t really tell us much about how many people worldwide are actually addicted to exercise, though Weinstein estimates that the number is anywhere from 1% to 3% of the population.

I have two friends who have used exercise to curb their problematic addictions, which originated from being majorly unhappy with themselves. One was addicted to sleeping pills (partying with them) and turned to extreme bouts of mediation and very, very long runs, while the other had bulimia and, instead of throwing up her food, started burning off the calories by hitting the gym every day.

Personally, it just sounds exhausting.

Read the full article HERE.

[source:quartz]