Happy people just don’t shoot their husbands
Header: Brigitta Brumund
Every morning, I wake up at 6 am to the Weeknd singing, “I don't wanna wake up”; I race to my phone on its charger, which I meticulously place as far away from my bed as my walls allow. I pray that I don’t have to hear the following line of the song. As I leave my comfy bed, which cradles me and gives me warm blanket hugs, I turn on the lights and mentally prepare myself to lift some heavy objects.
You may wonder why anyone would want to be awake during the darkest and coldest hours of the day. And yes, I ask myself the same question every day, but then, I remind myself of three facts: I am starting my day with something that makes me feel accomplished, gyms are least busy early in the morning, and finally, happy people don’t shoot their husbands. In the film, “Legally Blonde,” Elle Woods is working on a case to defend a fitness legend that she idolizes for the suspected murder of her husband. When Elle learns that the fitness legend Brooke Taylor Windham is on trial, she informs the rest of her team that Brooke won’t shoot her husband because engaging in exercise creates endorphins that make us happy. Happy Elle believes that happy people are less likely to want to shoot their partners.
As I embarked on a fitness journey, my mind seemed overwhelmingly burdened. Juggling school, sports, extracurriculars, and a job had me constantly pulled in various directions, and the only thing that made me feel any sense of control was working out. During the pandemic, I felt bound by the walls of my home, and the motivation to welcome each new day felt inexplicable. At the time, I was a high school student battling the trials and tribulations of teenage girls, confinement, and staying on the honor roll.
At the beginning of the pandemic, I took up running. Every day, I would run between five and ten kilometers. I would listen to wellness podcasts or music and return to my house with a sense of accomplishment. These daily runs gave me something to look forward to during such a dreary and uncertain time. As establishments began to reopen, I got my first gym membership. My daily workouts became my sanctuary amidst the bombardment of global health directives urging us to maintain a distance from one another. As I started working out, I experienced the rush of endorphins I had only heard about from Legally Blonde, but after experiencing the happy feelings emitted by endorphins, I became dependent on their effects to boost my spirits.
Before long, I began to crave the clarity I experienced while working out and started to experience symptoms of over-exercising. I became dependent on the high I felt during my workouts, and before long, my body started to disappear. Between running and weight training, I was expending so much energy that I was not consuming enough to sustain my activity level. Receiving compliments from aunts and friends about my appearance, juxtaposed with my parents' concerned gaze reflecting worries about my fragility, was such a mentally confusing experience for a little girl. I remember my skin bruising at the touch. The tenderness of my skin was what sparked my awareness of my circumstances.
When school restarted in the fall, I forged a healthier mindset surrounding exercise. As my schedule became more difficult to manage, I would only fit between 3-4 three to four workouts per week. As I decreased my activity level, I was able to stop training for runners high and train to calm my mind. Discovering self-compassion and embracing workouts as a form of mental tranquility helped me utilize exercise in a healthier way. I now train to release sweat, stress, and overwhelming feelings that fester from my busy schedule. I no longer require runners high to feel good about myself . Going to the gym has taught me to show compassion and continually challenge myself.
