About ten years ago, I had a period of poor health. I’ve mentioned it before and often refer to it during patient consultations. But there were a few unique things about that time that don’t fit the usual story. For one, I was still pretty fit. And by fit, I mean in the gym model of fitness — not necessarily the overall health sense.
I’d been going to the gym five or six times a week since I was sixteen. So, how sick could I really have been if I was still training that much? Fair question. But I had a long list of issues: low energy, stiffness, poor sleep, general fatigue — none bad enough to stop me going, and some (like my lower back pain) actually felt better after a workout. I was also roughly the same weight I am now. On paper, things looked fine. Usually when fitness and weight improve, health follows — but not always. My experience was proof of that.
So why am I bringing up the gym? Well, back then one of the things that helped me recover was actually stopping going. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I think I intuitively realised the gym is an environment to build and optimise when your baseline health is strong. When things aren’t going so well, it might not be the best place.
That’s not to say I haven’t seen the gym help people turn their health around — it absolutely can. Personality type and stage of life matter here. But for me, my health decline began right when my gym routine was at its strongest. So I made a swap — and no, it wasn’t for Netflix and the sofa. I replaced it with something far more healing: time outdoors.
I walked. I swam when I could. I sat on park benches. I played more tennis. I did the things that support our biology when we’re depleted. I also changed my diet — but even now, I think I underrate how powerful that other part of recovery was: sunlight, movement, and space to think.
I went two full years without a gym membership. Even when I felt great again, I was hesitant to return. Why mess with something that was working? But I did miss parts of it. I wasn’t as defined, and while I wasn’t self-conscious, I did feel a little underwhelmed by my physicality. So I rejoined — just for a one-off month. It was winter, so outdoor activity was harder anyway.
That first month went really well. I loved being back. I saw results quickly, but I stopped again and took another month off. Then I joined again for a month after that — same result. The Fitness First manager was confused:
“No,” I said. “The opposite. I’m worried I’ll come seven days a week and never take days off.”
He laughed. “That’s not what I usually hear.”
“Indeed,” I replied.
Fast forward to now. I’ve returned to study and it’s taking up a lot of my extra time. I’m getting that same low-grade stress again. Assignments pile up. Everyone seems obsessed with referencing systems. There are weeks with multiple deadlines. So I’ve pulled back once more.
I’m a bit wiser at 42, so this time I’m keeping the membership — but I’m choosing not to go when my system’s already overloaded. Instead, I go for a walk after work. I sit on a park bench. I go for an ocean swim. The difference is I’m making those choices intentionally. I know this is the right decision because I’ve lived it — and I see patients who take this approach experience more success than almost any other strategy I’ve seen.
The point of all this is simple: sometimes, the better option is the gentler one. Personality types like mine don’t naturally lean that way — maybe yours doesn’t either. But if you’ve been at a computer all day, overstimulated and disconnected, maybe the gym — with LED lights, noise, and energy — isn’t the best way to unwind.
It can help, but pause and think a little harder about what you need most in that moment. What does your body really need right now? Maybe it’s sunlight. Maybe it’s stillness. Maybe it’s a quiet park bench.
I did it ten years ago. I’m making those decisions again now. Over to you.