Lifting and Ego
Ego is that part of us that is self centered, craves attention or recognition, and can be overly competitive at times. It's the part of us that is always wanting more, and this aspect of the self can be a significant motivator when it comes to lifting. Regardless of the inherent “goodness” or “badness” of ego, it needs to be expressed. The key is finding a healthy way to express this energy, and for many, lifting can be a good outlet.
When I think of ego, I think of the part of myself that harbors less than positive emotions, such as envy, jealousy, resentment, anger, and the like. I believe this to be inherent to all humans, however, some have more control over this version of ourselves than others. In many ways, I associate the ego with the more primal and animalistic version of myself. This version of myself becomes more prominent at different stages of my life, and I have made great strides in shifting how I think and perceive myself and my surroundings, though I am still learning.
I firmly believe that lifting became an outlet for this part of me. The part of me that feels misunderstood. The part of me that did not know how to express itself in a healthy way, which would lead to repressed emotions and affect the way I interact with others. Lifting allowed me, and I believe many others, to release the pent up gunk in my psyche. Freeing myself of a metaphysical weight on my shoulders, and allowing me to interact more freely with the world.
Aside from this dynamic, I do genuinely enjoy lifting. I believe that part of why I stuck with it is because I was able to so clearly see the product of my repeated effort. Improved muscle mass and strength after months and years of what ultimately is work is incredibly satisfying. I grew to love and appreciate my body as my abilities and physique improved. Being able to do something I was once not physically able to, made me feel like I could do anything. And this is what I believe makes lifting so universal and integral to personal growth: it builds resilience, it fosters belief. If I was once not able to do that thing, but now I can, then the same can be said for anything I encounter in life. So long as I put in the effort, and believe I can do it, I can do it.
As I have gotten older, found a stable and loving relationship, and experienced a significant lifting injury (pec tear), I have noticed that my mindset around the gym and how I channel my thoughts and emotions into my lifting has changed. I am no longer an emotionally charged person, I no longer lift with anger or frustration at the front of my mind, and ironically, I have been finding it difficult to generate the same intensity I once did in the gym.
This is not to say that I love lifting any less, but I think this further validates that my early years as a lifter were driven primarily from a place of fear, a need to “prove myself”, and the need for an emotional outlet. Now that I no longer operate from the same place, my relationship with the gym, and how I lift, is shifting. It is unfamiliar and sometimes scary, because I worry that I am no longer as “good” as I once was, and when I face adversity in the gym (bad workouts/weeks) I have less energy to power my way through like I used to.
Objectively, I don’t think this is bad. I think I am just growing as a person, developing more emotional intelligence, and learning how to self regulate, both inside and outside of the gym. I find myself questioning what role lifting has in my life now more than ever. Some days I think it is the center of my life, and others it feels like a burden. It’s too soon to say what the outcome will be or if things will change drastically, all I know is that I will keep doing what makes me happy and excited, and hope I figure it out.
