You’re about to work out.
You planned it. You want to do it.
You even put on the leggings.
Then someone reminds you.
And suddenly… you don’t want to do it anymore.
This isn’t laziness.
It’s not defiance.
It’s called demand avoidance — and it’s a real part of ADHD brains.
Even the most gentle nudge —
"Weren’t you going to exercise today?"
can short-circuit your motivation completely.
What felt like a choice now feels like a chore.
And the drive? Gone.
This is an active conversation in my house.
My husband and I are trying to prioritize our health.
We're debating:
Do we upgrade the home gym or pay to go somewhere?
Theoretically, a morning gym session sounds ideal.
You work out before the kids need anything. You're done before the chaos starts.
It makes sense — but it doesn't work for me.
I’m a 10am girlie at best.
Mornings are for survival — coffee, cereal negotiations, and silent resentment.
Not lunges.
And this new gym my husband’s found? He’s excited about it.
Talked to the owner. Reviewed costs. Built a plan.
And just like that… it felt like his plan. Not mine.
My husband is a habit-builder.
He genuinely believes — and I mean this with love — that if I could just build the habit, I’d be set.
To him, consistency = freedom.
Build the routine. Stick to it. Rinse and repeat.
But he does not have ADHD.
Because if he did, he’d know:
My brain doesn’t automate habits. Every time still feels like the first time.
Motivation is inconsistent. My energy and emotional regulation fluctuate wildly.
If I miss a day, it derails everything. Not because I’m lazy — because starting again is a whole task in itself.
“Habit” can feel like a trap. The moment something is expected, it stops feeling like a choice.
He’s not trying to be controlling.
He’s trying to be supportive.
But the system that works for him?
It breaks me.
So when he starts planning our fitness routine like it’s a military schedule — mornings only, set days, long-term goals — it doesn’t motivate me.
It makes me want to run in the opposite direction. (If only that counted as cardio.)
Gif by nounish on Giphy
We already have the equipment.
It’s cost-effective.
It’s accessible.
Technically, I could work out at home.
But the mental load is heavier than the weights.
At home, I think:
“You should be folding laundry instead.”
“You should be cleaning.”
“You should be productive.”
And then there are the hidden barriers no one talks about:
I hate sweating. The feeling of damp clothes? Instant shutdown.
Socks are awful. Pure sensory hell.
Some days the lights are too bright.
Some days music is overstimulating.
My boobs want nothing to do with a sports bra. (And peeling off said sports bra after sweating? That’s a whole battle.)
Butt sweat. Boob sweat. The sweat print on the mat that feels like a personal attack.
Also, sports bras don’t love you back. I said what I said.
These aren’t excuses.
They’re real barriers — physical, sensory, emotional, hormonal.
And they pile up.
When I do work out, it’s usually:
In whatever I’m already wearing
Timed with hair wash days (because extra showers aren’t happening)
After 10am, not before
Only if I’ve slept
Only if the baby isn’t losing it
Definitely not if I’m bleeding or in my “luteal phase”
Early morning workouts?
Cute in theory. Chaos in practice.
They throw off my ADHD med schedule completely.
Take meds before? Then I have to eat early — which, gross.
Take them after? Brain fog city.
Eat first? No thanks.
Don’t eat? Meltdown.
Nothing about it feels supportive.
It feels like performance under pressure.
Here’s the kicker:
Exercise is incredibly helpful for ADHD and mental health.
The science says so:
Boosts dopamine, norepinephrine, serotonin — the same brain chemicals ADHD meds target
Improves focus, working memory, and mood regulation
Reduces stress and improves sleep
Helps with task initiation and follow-through
Supports brain plasticity — meaning actual long-term changes in how we function
It’s not wellness fluff.
It’s real.
And still — knowing all that doesn’t make it easier to do.
Because the same brain that benefits from exercise is also the one that:
Procrastinates
Overthinks
Gets overwhelmed choosing a workout
Shuts down at the first interruption
Panics when it feels trapped in a routine
So yes — I want the benefits.
Yes — I believe in movement.
And also — I’m trying to make peace with the reality that doing the thing that helps… is also the thing I resist.
No hacks. No rigid systems. Just honesty.
Here’s what I’m trying — imperfectly:
Letting movement be movement.
A 10-minute stretch. Walking the dog. Dancing in the kitchen. It all counts.
Working out in whatever I’ve got on.
Pajamas, old leggings, no socks. Doesn’t matter.
Pairing it with hair wash days.
If I’m already showering, I might as well move.
Letting some days be a wash.
If I’m bleeding, touched out, or the baby’s melting down — it’s not a failure. It’s a flag.
Trying not to hate the process.
If it feels like punishment, of course I’ll avoid it. My goal is sustainability — not intensity.
Compromising where I can.
One or two gym days with my spouse? That’s doable.
It might be my only movement that week — or it might kickstart more.
Either way: it’ll be what it is. Not a plan. Not a promise. Just a possibility.
ADHD brains thrive with autonomy and crash under pressure.
So I’m not chasing the “perfect” routine anymore.
I’m choosing what counts — for me.
And that includes:
A single squat while picking up toys
A stretch before bed
A day off without guilt
Because motivation is messy.
But my body still deserves care — even if it’s not on a schedule.
Talk soon,
Tara
CEO of Chaos & Co.
(Still sweaty. Still valid.)
Reply