Opinion | Online workout classes: a saving grace

Mady Dever, Opinions Editor

Over the course of the six-month-long quarantine, I’ve explored my fair share of YouTube workout challenges and yoga videos, trying desperately to do something productive while sitting at home. It feels silly to be all by myself, trying to perfect cardio moves that look more like I'm throwing my back out than getting rock-hard abs.

Despite the awkwardness, one uncomfortably looming feeling has been absent: being watched. I don’t have to worry about looking like a cartoon character slipping on a banana peel while doing mountain climbers. I have the freedom to try new exercises without embarrassing myself, unlike working out at a public gym. Maybe online workout classes were the answer all along. There’s something comforting about hearing the calming ukulele jingle before I start my morning yoga video. Online exercises at home have given this uncertain time a bit more structure and never fails to put me in a better mood.

Part of the reason I feel uncomfortable exercising in front of other people stems from a deeper feeling of being watched by men. As every girl probably feels at some point in their lives, a long glance or unprompted conversation can make me feel unsafe. 

I’ve realized this underlying fear goes beyond my sporadic trips to the gym. Being home for so long because of quarantine, I almost forgot what being a woman in this world feels like. I had formed my own reality of a place that didn’t exist outside of the protective walls of my house. 

A place with no stares, no catcalls and no underlying fears doesn't exist in the real world. I am reminded of the hard truth when I venture out into reality, on my scarce trips to the grocery store or gas station. My guard is locked back into place. Even on quick coffee runs, I can’t seem to avoid an up-and-down gaze or unwanted interaction.

According to YouGov, an international research and data analytics firm, 61% of American women regularly take precautions to protect themselves from sexual assault. Some of these precautions include maintaining spatial awareness, having a phone prepared, avoiding certain areas and hours of the night, informing others of your location and walking in public spaces with confidence. It’s safe to say I’ve done all of these things at one point or another.

I don’t go on walks alone – too many horror stories. I avoid getting gas at night – too dangerous. I keep my phone at the ready when I’m alone in an Uber. I wear baggy clothes on late night runs because someone told me clothing makes a difference. It doesn’t. 

It’s exhausting constantly checking off these precautions in my head, but it’s so ingrained that it’s become second nature. I know I will never shake these feelings – they’re a constant ringing in my ears. I’ll always assume the worst, because I’ve been presented the worst as a likely option. I can’t stop the pit-in-my-stomach feeling when a man shouts something at me or appears to be following me in an empty parking lot.

Whether it’s the gym, the bar or a coffee shop, I don’t let it control my life. Once this pandemic is over and feels like a distant nightmare, I’m going to return to the reality I’ve always lived in. If online workout classes have taught me anything, it’s to be stronger, gain confidence over oppressors and not to live in fear just because society tells women to be extra careful.