How Exercise Saved My Life

I almost died.

Fair warning – this story starts as some stories do with the bad, the dark, the unpleasant, the scary, and the difficult to talk about.

Okay, you ready?

6 years ago in 2014 I co-founded a statewide forest farming business.

Forest farming???

Yep. Planting, transplanting, and cultivating valuable woodland perennial plants in their native forest habitat in Vermont.

AKA forest farming.

I had played water polo competitively in high school and college but by 2014 my fitness regimen had dwindled to the day-to-day physical demands of farming and the occasional hike.

(I thought I was in decent shape and fit because I was relatively skinny. I was not actually fit or in decent shape.)

Right, the dark and scary, focus.

The ins and outs of co-launching this particular statewide forest farming business were insanely challenging and from the day the company was founded my stress built steadily until it reached a level that I didn’t even know was possible.

Severe is an understatement.

Have you ever experienced extreme psychological stress? Can you relate?

A little over a year into launching the business, at the end of 2015 and the beginning of 2016, I was careening towards my breaking point.

My relationship with my business partner and co-founder was fracturing and becoming toxic.

The first-year plans for the business had gone drastically sideways and the $40,000 my father had invested in 2014 was almost gone. Poof.

My personal savings were drying up. I could no longer afford to rent the farmhouse where I’d been residing so I moved out, living out of my car, shuffling between house-sitting gigs and accommodation favors from friends.

I lived in a bus for a few months. A damp cabin with no running water for a little while. A moldy pop-up camper that leaked when it rained. An off-the-grid lodge where I stored my food in an old cooler until a bear broke in and ate my supplies.

I worried constantly. About affording groceries. About what I was going to eat. About what I was going to do when the last of my savings ran out. About how I was going to live. About how I would face my parents. About letting people down. About failing. About not being good enough. About not having what it takes. About salvaging the business and the relationship with my business partner. About falling apart. About having a mental breakdown. About losing control. About having to check myself into a hospital. About what people would think of me. About what would happen next. About how I would get through the next day, the next hour, the next 10 minutes. About everything.

I’m going to skim over the next part. This is where s*** gets really bad.

December 2015. Stress-induced anxiety worsening. Difficulty eating and keeping food down. Forcing myself to eat breakfast each morning through nervous nausea. Often throwing up on the way to meet my business partner. Panic attacks becoming more frequent. Sudden spikes in heart rate and difficulty breathing off and on throughout each day.

January 2016. Insomnia worsening. Unable to sleep. Lying in bed at night, exhausted but wide awake, mind racing, torturing myself, desperately wanting relief, peace, rest, an end in sight. For it to all go away. For it to all be over. Feeling trapped. Powerless. No way out. No solution. No hope. Thoughts of self-harm becoming common. Daily fantasizing about taking my own life. About how I am going to do it. Making plans to make it all go away.

February 2016. I’ve lost 20 lbs. Still not sleeping. Still not eating well. Mind feeling fractured, frayed. Like ice, like glass, ready to break. I’m scared. At night I leave the converted bus where I’m staying and sit at the edge of the steep drop-off close-by and stare into the dark between my feet. And think about how easy it would be. I get my hunting rifle out of storage. Just in case. Just in case I can’t take it anymore one day and need to snap my fingers and make it all disappear. I’m ready.

March 2016. A friend takes notice of my situation and attempts to intervene. Suggests I go back to the gym and try this weightlifting plan he likes and has had some success with in the past. I resist. I’m angry and hostile towards him. I fight the idea. “What’s the point?” I say. “Nothing will change. It won’t make any difference. I tried weight lifting before and it didn’t help me. I sucked at it. This is just how things are. This is just who I am. This can’t save me. This won’t help me. Your idea is stupid. Who do you think you are, thinking you can help me? What makes you think I even want your help? F*** you.”

All the excuses.

All the procrastination.

All the false beliefs.

All the negative self-talk.

I dish it all out.

But the friend persists. Won’t leave me alone in fact.

I finally break down. Too tired to fight back anymore. Besides, it won’t make a difference I tell myself. I’ll follow his plan for a couple weeks. I’ll show him it won’t work. I’ll show him just how stupid his idea is. Hah. I’ll prove him wrong. I’ll prove what I’ve been trying to tell him all along.

That I’m weak.

That I’m a failure.

That I can’t do it.

That I don’t have what it takes.

That I’m worthless.

The fitness plan my friend gives me is Body of a Spartan, by Victor Pride. It’s simple and easy to follow. I don’t question it or think about it. I don't consult a doctor or a trainer. I just start doing it. To prove to my friend he’s wrong. To prove to myself that my (false) beliefs are true.

Fundamental compound lifts, focusing on the major muscle groups. Squats. Deadlifts. Bench-press. Strict military press. Starting with low weights to nail down the form. And then going heavy. As heavy as possible. Veins popping, neck straining, eyes bulging kind of heavy.

I don’t know anything about exercise or weight lifting at this time. But I’m stubborn. And competitive. And angry. And desperate. And I like to be right. I’m going to prove my friend wrong. I’m going to prove the world wrong. F*** you and f*** the world. That’s my thought.

April 2016. So I follow the plan. Lifting in the gym 3 days per week for the first couple weeks. Then 4 days. Then 5. Then 6.

A month goes by. Then 2. Then 3.

And I’m still lifting. And still following the plan.

But not because I still want to prove my friend wrong. No, a couple months in and I forget all about that goal.

I’m still lifting because…

I am enjoying it.

Because…

I look forward to it. Every day. More than anything else.

Here's the truth:

I’m still lifting because I am beginning to experience all the mental and psychological benefits of strength training and regular exercise that scientists, philosophers, and astute observers have been taking note of for centuries. And which modern researchers are continuing to document and explore today.

I’m still lifting because…

I am discovering a form of exercise that is my medicine.

That is saving my life.

The ancient Greeks had a saying: Mens sana in corpore sano; “a healthy mind in a healthy body”.

Body and mind. Mind and body.

That's why I’m still lifting.

Fast forward 1 year. Late spring of 2017.

The gym is my church. My sanctuary. My escape. My therapy. My place. My time. My doctor’s office. My refuge. My hope. My castle. My fortress.

I’m lifting 6 to 7 days per week. I’ve put the weight back on that I’d lost when I was living in the bus, plus an extra 20 lbs of muscle on top. I look bigger and stronger. I feel bigger and stronger.

I am still part of the forest farming business. Still struggling with the relationship with my business partner. Still struggling with anxiety and depression. Still crawling my way out of the bottom of the deep dark hole where I crash landed 1 year back.

But I am getting stronger. Mentally and physically. A little more every day. Mind and body. Bit by bit. And I have something no one can take away from me. Something I love. A piece of my authentic self. A piece of my passion and purpose and path. I have fitness. I have strength training. I have my medicine.

Mens sana in corpore sano: “a healthy mind in a healthy body”

Exercise is an extremely powerful force. The long-term changes are very real and very deep and very lasting. But they do not come overnight. They are not a quick fix. The benefits are a product of fitness as a regular habit. The longer you maintain your fitness habit, I’m discovering, the deeper, more lasting and more powerful the benefits will be.

Mens sana in corpore sano.

The ancient Greeks were on to something.

People past and present have known that exercise, fitness, and positive movement are good for you. Duh. Commonly accepted knowledge, right?

But if ask you, “What are the benefits of exercise?”, you’ll probably fire off something about my body right?

You can build muscle. You can lose weight. You can have a healthier heart. You can get stronger, faster, skinnier, healthier, sexier, fitter, nimbler, bigger, quicker –

I’m going to stop you there.

Yes, all true.

But only half the picture.

Let’s come back to the ancient Greeks, just for a second.

Even without modern scientific tools, methods, and laboratories, the Greeks were masters of a basic, key scientific principle: the art of observation.

And they noticed something very, very important:

People who exercised habitually – on a consistent and regular basis – weren’t just healthier physically, in body.

These fit people were also healthier mentally. Happier. More confident. More psychologically resilient. More focused. Quicker thinking. Calmer. More at ease.

Leading us back to Mens sana in corpore sano, “a healthy mind in a healthy body”.

Let’s leave the ancient Greeks in the past now and fast-forward to today.

Turns out those Grecian masters of observation were spot on.

In the last few decades and continuing through today, new research has been steadily published showing us a long, astounding, and growing list of positive mental and psychological benefits of regular exercise, in addition to the physical benefits you already started ticking off so nicely.

Just 3 quick quotes here (of many) to blow your mind:

1. “There is ample scientific evidence that participation in physical activity has significant mental health benefits. Notable among [these] benefits are a reduction of anxiety and depression, decreased reactivity to psychological stress, and enhanced cognition (memory, analytical thinking, planning, focus, concentration and decision making)… In addition, physical exercise appears to be as effective as medication in men and women experiencing clinical depression [citation referenced].”

(NSCA’s Essentials of Personal Training) [bold formatting added for emphasis].

2. “A new study of exercise and mental health during the early stages of the nationwide [Coronavirus] lockdown… finds that people who managed to remain physically active during those early weeks of sheltering at home were less depressed and more mentally resilient than other people whose activity levels declined.”

(NY Times Online, A Possible Remedy for Pandemic Stress: Exercise, Gretchen Reynolds, May 27 2020)

3. “Exercise is essential ‘medicine’ for some [people]”

(NSCA’s Essentials of Personal Training).

Boom! There it is, clear as day!

Exercise is medicine!

I know, I know, you can barely contain your excitement. Me too.

If you take just one thing from this post today, I want you to remember this phrase: exercise is medicine.

These words are a free gift today, my present just for you: exercise is medicine.

And there, I said it 3 times so now your brain can’t help but store it. Thanks psychology 101.

Back to the mental battle. Victory in sight. From the spring of 2017, 1 year after I hit rock bottom with the stress of the business and then rediscovered fitness, it took me another 2 years, to the late spring of 2019, almost exactly 1 year ago, to finally leave the forest farming business I had co-founded in 2014.

And on leaving, I began to follow my passion and pursue a career in fitness full time. Strength training was (and is) still my rock, a deeply set positive habit, my daily grounding point. My medicine.

When I left the business 1 year ago, I began to work at the Woodstock Athletic Club, my gaze locked firmly on the goal of becoming a fitness trainer; and in less than 1 year’s time, I was an SCW certified group fitness instructor, an SCW certified aquatic exercise instructor, and had completed the National Strength and Conditioning Association’s training to become a Certified Personal Trainer.

And when gyms closed their doors a couple months ago, there was only one thing to do.

Something I’d been thinking about doing all along.

I took the leap and founded my very own online fitness training business. Andrew Stowe Fitness LLC.

Because exercise and fitness – especially strength training – is my medicine.

It saved my life. Literally.

And here’s the thing:

I know it can be your medicine too.

Maybe even save your life someday.

True, for you it might not be strength training.

But whatever it is, I am 100% certain that there is some form of exercise and fitness out there that is waiting for you, if you haven’t found it already.

A form of exercise that is waiting to become your habit. Something you can enjoy and love.

Something that isn’t a chore.

Something that can be your medicine.

(Even if you tell me you don’t need it. Even if you tell me that it won’t work for you. That it’s a waste of time and won’t make a difference in your life. That you’re worthless and it doesn’t matter. Even if you come at me hostile and enraged, savage, eyes bulging face red screaming spitting and cursing me. Believe me, I know every one of those lines. I said them all. I was there.)

Mens sana in corpore sano, “a healthy mind in a healthy body”.

Exercise is medicine. For body and mind.

Here’s to helping you find the form of exercise and fitness that can be your medicine.

Here’s to a stronger more positive you.