Feeling gym-timidated? Here’s how I overcame my gym anxiety

“With time, practice, and support, gym intimidation can be overcome.”

When I decided to enrol at the gym for the first time earlier this year, I was aware that the endeavour could end in failure. Having long viewed fitness as a venture reserved only for those who can confidently sport lycra (on second thought, can anyone?), the idea of visiting somewhere populated by this demographic induced enough heart-racing anxiety to constitute its own workout. 

Between the mortgage-level price of a Frank Green water bottle and the inevitable side-eyes on the equipment – that hip-thrust machine is the stuff of nightmares – becoming a gym-goer seemed like a Herculean task, only slightly outweighed by my desire to eventually look like Hercules himself (the hunky Disney version, obviously). All these fears preceded my debut visit to the gym, which I tried to envision as an actual debutante ball with cheap athleisure in lieu of a dress.   

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My fears were confirmed with the same brevity it takes a gym-goer to tell you they’ve gone to the gym (very quickly). Upon entering, I’m greeted by what I believe to be the spawn of Lucifer himself: a full-body mirror. Granted, the sweat that somehow appeared after climbing a whopping two flights of stairs didn’t improve my reflection, but the intimidation induced by the mirror would remain the only muscle I flexed during that first-time gym visit.

Others were decidedly more confident in front of Lucifer’s spawn, to the point where I wondered if one muscle tee’d patron – who looked like a Hercules that ate another Hercules – might start kissing his own reflection. Would I enjoy the sight? Yes. But between the symphonic grunts of bicep curlers and the overhead lighting that seemed to only shine on my muffin top, I was hardly in the mood to stroke others’ egos when mine felt crushed (probably under the weight of the five-kilo dumbbell I grossly underestimated).

I’m not the only one to feel this way. So perilous is the experience that the term ‘gym-timidation’ has arisen as a shorthand for those who think Anytime Fitness should be called ‘Anytime (But Now) Fitness’. Psychologist Rachel Goldman has encountered this type of anxiety before. “[Gym-timidation] could be an anxious, concerned or worried feeling as well as an overwhelming feeling for some people,” Rachel tells me.

Rachel, who specialises in health and wellness, says gym-timidation is often borne out of “the uncertainty and unknown of the gym, especially if it’s a new experience”. Indeed, my unfamiliarity with the weight of a dumbbell – especially among people who lifted them with the ease of a newspaper – did little to calm my jitters, which caused “unhelpful thoughts to start spiralling,” Rachel explains. 

Tied to the fear of the unknown is another motivator for gym-timidation. “It could also be the fear that others are watching you,” Rachel adds. That factor was especially true in my case, largely because I feared that the Ariana Grande album blasting through my AirPods probably wasn’t on the playlist of a nearby ‘gym bro’. 

This hyper-awareness of both myself and other patrons led to what Rachel describes as “checking behaviours” where the nagging focus of my workout was not on fitness, but on wondering whether others were assessing my supposed ‘form’. “People are afraid that other gym-goers are going to judge them,” Rachel says. “If you are already questioning your own gym knowledge or self-image, then you will most likely have thoughts about others viewing and judging, too.”

Anna Sergent, a psychologist and personal trainer, agrees that concerns around self-image weigh into one’s experience, and speaks of the “social pressures to look a certain way or have a certain level of fitness”.

“This self-consciousness can create a sense of inadequacy,” Anna tells me. My mirror-dodging tactic is evidence of how these internal concerns can rear their ugly (or in this case, untoned) head at the gym, but the external environment of the gym itself is also rife with anxieties, given that it “can sometimes promote social comparison,” Anna explains. 

“Individuals compare themselves to others based on their appearance [or] fitness level. This [creates] a sense of pressure to conform to certain standards,” she continues. While my vicinity to ‘gym bros’ left me feeling comparably incompetent – even though they probably couldn’t name Ariana’s top hits – this comparison is especially burdensome for women, who are “held to unrealistic beauty standards” that are heightened by the gym’s “focus on physical appearance and fitness,” Anna says.

All of this contributes to a sense of imposter syndrome, in which gym-goers “feel like [they] don’t belong there, or feel like a fraud,” Rachel tells me. By this account, going to the gym might seem akin to hosting a TedTalk on a topic you’re completely unfamiliar with (‘The Simple Art of Changing a Tyre’ perhaps), but that feeling of imposter syndrome, and indeed of gym-timidation more broadly, is not inescapable.

One way Rachel and Anna suggest overcoming gym anxiety is to avoid negative self-talk. Internal monologuing about whether a gym-goer is sneering at you, or whether you’ll be able to squat without seismic knee-shakes, is often an example of “unhelpful messages that you are already telling yourself,” Rachel says. “Most of the time, these thoughts about other people judging you come from within.”    

In retrospect, the aforementioned Hercules was likely too focused on bursting his bicep vein to worry about me. While it’s disheartening to not be the gym’s main character (à la Jane Fonda in her high-camp ’80s workout video) it’s nonetheless comforting to know that “most people at the gym are not concerned with you, but are there with a similar goal in mind,” Rachel says. 

This acknowledgement can instead fuel positive self-talk, like “focusing on personal goals and progress rather than comparing yourself to others,” Anna suggests. Indeed, positive self-talk saw me gradually evoke Fonda-level confidence, by way of “being kind to yourself and complimenting yourself for even trying,” as Rachel says.  

Self-talk is especially helpful when coupled with regular exposure to the gym. By starting with consistent, short visits and manageable workouts, the sting of gym-timidation weakened over time, as I became comfortable with my internal concerns and those of the external space around me. 

This increased exposure, or what Rachel calls taking “baby steps”, saw me eventually befriend the gym bro, improving both my confidence and his workout playlist, with Rain On Me all but certain to appear on his Spotify Wrapped. Alongside this, Rachel and Anna suggest acquainting yourself with gym staff, bringing a friend to your sessions, and finding a particular routine that works for you. 

“With time, practice and support, gym intimidation can be overcome,” Anna assures me. “Be kind to yourself… you’re just a human after all.” With this in mind, rest assured that while initially overwhelming, gym-timidation is both commonplace and manageable. Work to dispel negative self-talk, and hold safe in the knowledge that most gym-goers are also there to evoke Jane Fonda. Spin some of Grande’s biggest hits, and ask a ‘gym bro’ to spot you if he can somehow be pulled away from his reflection.  

Over time, the Herculean task of gym-going will seem surmountable, with the flow-on effect of increased self-confidence and multiple Frank Green water bottles. Soon, you’ll be the type of person who confidently informs everyone that you “Went to the gym today”. For their sake, be sure to keep such recounts brief.