Fitness and mental health

When the Gym Becomes a Crutch: The Hidden Side of Fitness Culture

We often talk about fitness and mental health in glowing terms—how exercise boosts your mood, improves your energy, and builds discipline. And it does. For many people, hitting the gym regularly can be genuinely transformative. But there’s a side to this conversation that doesn’t get enough attention: what happens when the gym stops being a tool for growth and becomes a way to avoid real life?

Let me be clear—there are countless people who could genuinely benefit from exercising more. If you’re struggling with low energy, poor health, or depression, a consistent fitness routine can be life-changing. It can give you structure, confidence, and even a sense of identity. But that doesn’t mean the gym is a cure-all.

Some problems can’t be solved by lifting heavier weights or dropping body fat. You can be strong, fit, and still deeply unhappy. And I’ve seen it—people who bury themselves in their workouts because they’re running from something: a lack of purpose, broken relationships, emotional pain.

From the outside, it can look admirable. Society praises the person who trains six or seven days a week. “Great discipline,” we say. “Keep it up!” But as a personal trainer, when I hear someone say they have to train every day, I start asking questions. Not aloud—usually not right away—but internally, I wonder: what are you avoiding?

The truth is, the gym often attracts people who are struggling. Misfits. People with trauma. People dealing with anxiety, depression, addiction, or a lack of direction. It’s not a judgment—I’m one of them. And in a way, it’s better than the alternatives. Compared to drugs, alcohol, or binge eating, exercise is the healthiest coping mechanism you could pick. But that doesn’t mean it’s actually healthy when it becomes an obsession.

Let’s call it what it is: an addiction. A socially acceptable one, but an addiction nonetheless. And just like any other addiction, it’s driven by a need to escape—except this time, you’re generating your own chemicals (endorphins, dopamine) rather than taking them externally. It’s still about numbing something.

So here’s the question: if you need that workout every single day just to feel okay, are you really better off than the person who drinks every night? Maybe not. Maybe you’re just more functional. And maybe society applauds your addiction because it looks good on the outside.

But I’d argue that true health—mental and physical—is about balance. If you have to train every day, if you’re spending all your time outside of work at the gym because you can’t bear to be alone with your thoughts, something’s off. You’re not healing. You’re hiding.

I know this because I’ve done it too.

For a long time, I filled my life with work and training, constantly trying to distract myself from the fact that I was lonely and broke. That was the real root of my depression. And while exercise helped take the edge off, it never addressed the core issues. I had to make a change.

Recently, I made the decision to leave my hospitality career and go full-time into personal training. That shift forced me to confront the emotional baggage I’d been carrying—and to start figuring out what I actually want from life. It’s been tough. I’ve stumbled. I’ve had to face things I’d rather avoid. But it’s also been necessary.

You can’t use exercise as a band-aid for a deeper wound. It’s a tool, not a solution. Yes, training makes you stronger. But healing—real healing—requires you to look at the parts of your life that hurt and ask why. Why are you unhappy in your job? Why is your relationship unfulfilling? Why do you feel the need to stay constantly busy?

Don’t replace one addiction with another. Don’t settle for looking fit while feeling broken inside.

Start small. Identify the parts of your life that feel misaligned. Do you need a change in career? Are your relationships meaningful and supportive? Are you using food, substances, or even the gym to avoid something deeper?

It’s okay to use fitness as a coping tool—but don’t let it become a mask. The real work happens outside the gym, in the quiet moments where you face yourself honestly and commit to change.

You owe yourself that.