Fitness Was Never “For Me”
Growing up, fitness always felt like something for other people—jocks, “meatheads,” or those blessed with natural athleticism. It wasn’t for people like me. If you weren’t trying to be an athlete or actor, it felt unnecessary. If you were a little overweight? That was just the hand life dealt you.
Food was always my escape, my comfort. But our relationship was complicated and, frankly, unhealthy. I’ve struggled with overeating for as long as I can remember, even when it came to healthier options. Anxiety, depression, and ADHD played their part, turning food into a coping mechanism when everything else felt out of control.
The Breaking Point
Then, two years ago, I hit rock bottom—literally. My heart gave out, and I needed a quadruple bypass. It wasn’t a wake-up call to suddenly embrace fitness; it was a stark reminder that my body was in crisis. Fitness wasn’t an option; it became a necessity.
The years leading up to that surgery were a perfect storm. The pandemic turned me into a functional alcoholic. Film industry work, with its 16-hour days, sedentary routines, and poor nutrition, dug the hole deeper. I’d chug energy drinks to stay awake, and when the day ended, I’d make several frozen margaritas just to wind down. The stress, bad habits, and neglect all caught up to me in the most brutal way possible.
A New Reality
After the surgery, I didn’t embrace fitness because I wanted to—it was doctor’s orders. Move or risk another heart attack. Walk or risk not walking at all. It wasn’t inspiring; it was survival.
But something unexpected happened: I took a job as a Creative Producer at a fitness equipment company. Suddenly, I was surrounded by gym equipment every day, staring at me as if daring me to use it. It was a mix of accountability and irony that pushed me forward. I started exercising out of necessity, but over time, I realized it was doing more than just keeping my heart beating.
Fitness and Mental Health
At first, it was just about staying alive. But as I moved more, something shifted. My mood started to stabilize. The anxiety felt a little less crushing. I started sleeping better. And for a guy who’s spent most of his life sitting on the sidelines of fitness, it felt like a strange new reality.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
- Fitness is Medicine: It doesn’t just help your body; it helps your brain. Moving releases endorphins, lowers cortisol, and boosts serotonin—all things I desperately needed.
- It’s Not About Perfection: I’m not training for a marathon. Some days, it’s just a walk or a few minutes of stretching. That’s enough.
- It’s a Form of Control: When everything else feels chaotic, moving my body is one thing I can control.
The Struggle is Real
Let me be honest: it’s still hard. Most days, I’d rather sit on the couch with my dog and cat, watching movies or playing video games. Being in a new city, mid-40s, single, and sober after years of heavy drinking—it’s isolating. The support system I used to rely on is gone, and the temptation to do nothing is always there.
But I know where “nothing” leads. I’ve been there. That’s why I get up and move, even when I don’t feel like it.
Why Self Loathe Club Exists
I created Self Loathe Club because I know I’m not alone in this. So many of us feel disconnected, like fitness and self-love are for someone else. But they’re not. They’re for all of us—especially the ones who never felt like they belonged in that world.
Self Loathe Club isn’t just about mental health apparel; it’s about building a community where people can find connection, share their struggles, and celebrate their small wins. Whether that’s going to a concert, playing Magic: The Gathering, or just surviving another day, those moments matter.
Fitness for Real Life
Fitness isn’t about being perfect or fitting into some ideal mold. It’s about surviving, thriving, and taking back control of your life. Strip away the stigma, the pressure, and the preconceived notions. Do it because you deserve to feel better and live longer.
I didn’t choose fitness after my surgery—it was chosen for me. But now, two years later, I see it as a lifeline. And if I can find my way into this world, so can you.
Embrace Your Weird,
Nick
Founder of Self Loathe Club
