My friend messaged me the other day.

"Are you free?" she asked, "I have to call you about something."

"I just finished yoga class," I typed back, looking around to see if my ride was here yet. " Will be home in about 20 mins, does that work?"

"Since when did you do yoga?"

It was a response that struck me, because it seemed so far from the reality of my life. I had been working out at least three times a week for a while, and did way more than yoga – barre, boxing, pilates, spin. But up until a year ago, when I last met up with this friend of over a decade, I had been doing zero of those things. I had never signed up for a proper gym, and certainly never went to boutique gym classes. The most regular exercise I ever did was run on the treadmill in my apartment's gym, 20 mins a day, five times a week, for about 2 months in 2017. Then I tried the elliptical, and used it for about twice a week for 5, 6 months.

Back then, I was doing it solely to lose weight. And it worked. But these days, the days where I'm exercising more than ever, my weight has stayed put. That's not really a point of concern for me anymore – I realise that weight has much more to do with diet, and another thing that I've been drawn to these days is learning how to nourish my body, to eat healthy for the sake of my own health.

Does that sound familiar to you?

My relationship to exercise has changed so much. It's driven partly by age and an increasing consciousness of the importance of my health as I grow older, and partly by fitness fads.

It's the second point that interests me more. I had never seen myself as following fitness trends (I've never done keto, never done intermittent fasting, never done no-carb diets, etc. etc.) but recently I've thought more and more about why and how I started taking more care of my health.

In 2018, maybe early 2019, I read an article about how the marker of wealth and success in China was no longer the conspicuous consumption of luxury goods, but rather, a conspicuously toned, healthy body. Spending precious time on working out and on eating well was, and is, a privilege denied to many.

There's something about the way fitness has become trendy. I wouldn't say it's bad, because how can improving your health be bad? But there's something that's somehow insidious about it.

I enjoy the exercises I do, even when my thighs are burning during barre, even when I think my heart is beating at a worrying rate during spin. I feel great afterwards, and I've never slept better than I do now.

I used to see fit people, people who walk around in athleisure after actually working out, people who Instagram themselves in their sports bras and leggings, and never thought that I could be one of them.

How much is me getting fitter actually dictated by what I see on social media? How much is the fact that I am joining in these classes actually the result of me seeing other people online do it? And, if I am healthier and fitter than ever before, how much should I care about the answers to these questions?


(When I started writing this post, it was supposed to be about how I care much more about health than weight now. It somehow spun into this.)