HOW I GET FIT DONE

After years of overtraining, one woman reveals how she finally found balance

Exercise is a form of therapy for me. I love the way it makes me feel, but that isn’t the only reason why the gym is my happy place. It was the first setting where I really felt I belonged since school.

I was born deaf; I went to a deaf school, where everyone communicated using British Sign Language. Adapting to the hearing environment afterwards wasn’t easy, but I held my own – I went on to work as a bartender, backpack around Asia and get my graphic design extended diploma. At first, London gyms were pretty inaccessible to me. I rely on lip-reading, so I need people to face me directly when they’re talking, which rarely happens in studios. The dimly lit spaces and flashing lights didn’t help, either. Still, not even those frustrations were enough to put me off exercise – far from it.

My passion for health became all-consuming. I wasn’t overweight, but still I wanted to be leaner – at the time, I thought that having visible abs was what ‘healthy’ looked like. I began going to the gym six or seven days a week, and my eating habits became so strict – I refused butter, avoided most carbs and didn’t drink any alcohol – that it was easier to stop seeing my friends. I was in my own little bubble, just training and eating, then training again. In my quest to be healthy, I’d become anything but.

It was going travelling around Australia in a camper van with a friend, in 2017, that changed my perspective. In those first few weeks, I tried as hard as I could to keep to my meticulous routine. I visited every F45 studio I could find, would get up early to run 15km in the 40°C heat and tried to carry on tracking my calories. It wasn’t sustainable, of course. Anyone who’s ever travelled on a budget will know that regular exercise and meal-prepping aren’t always feasible, and I had to compromise on both.

But the world didn’t end. Gradually, I started going out in the evenings, and I began to eat a more balanced diet – I even drank a few glasses of wine every now and then. And I had fun. I swore that, when I got back, I’d stop depriving myself of those precious moments with friends and family. I hadn’t had a period in about three years, and I was beginning to realise how serious my overtraining and restrictive eating had become. I knew something had to give.

Since returning home in 2018, I’ve ditched my old idea of ‘healthy’ for good. It wasn’t easy and I do still get anxious sometimes, but I’m so much better now.

I no longer track calories, and if I want a pizza, I’ll have it. I’ve scaled back my training to 30 to 60 minutes, five days a week, alternating between

HIIT and weight training – usually at F45 Stratford. It’s one of the few studios that’s actually accessible for me, because all of the exercises are displayed in numbered video clips, shown on screens throughout the studio.

I’m still passionate about fitness – and, even more than that, about making exercise accessible to other deaf people. I know from experience that something as simple as a change of exercise without enough warning can leave you feeling useless. I did my L3 personal trainer qualification this year and started my own online PT business (youleanmeup.fit). Many of my clients are deaf, and they’ll say things like, ‘I finally have someone who understands me and communicates in the same language.’ I know this is what I’m meant to be doing with my life.