Over the past 20 minutes, you’ve felt a slow increase of anxiety. The sinking feeling of being completely overwhelmed is imminent. You feel uncomfortable, bordering on frantic, and try to calm yourself down to no avail. Finally, you begin to get the feeling that everyone is ahead of you, and panic sets in. No, this is not your organic chemistry section—it’s your daily cardio workout at the MAC.

It’s no surprise that, with the effects of obesity making headlines and the overwhelming perfectionist drive of most Harvard students, people on campus like to work out. After a few days at the MAC, however, I realized that some people aren’t exercising solely for the physical benefits. Instead, health at Harvard has become just another arena in which students obsessively compete.

Some students direct their energies into maintaining the appearance of an intense workout rather than actually exercising, Every time I go to the gym, I brace myself for the scrutiny. As soon as I get on my elliptical, an energetic, spandex-clad girl will inevitably take the one next to me, her high ponytail bouncing along with her quick pace and absent resistance. She is clearly more focused on her appearance than actually exercising, and the pleasure she derives from running at her quickened tempo is immediately apparent from her almost pitying glances in my direction.

If she’s too busy shopping for new exercise attire that day, I often encounter a second type: those who note the pace of those around them and seek to go just a little faster. We all know the slightly older man attempting to look buff as he huffs and puffs amongst the row of women will take her place, or the woman in an over-sized T-shirt reaching the peak of her mountain trying to shed a few pounds. But no matter who it is, they all share one commonality—an inability to keep their eyes on their own monitor.

In the midst of this atmosphere, it is nearly impossible for me to focus on my own workout without getting the feeling that I’m somehow horribly behind. My neighbors’ peeks at my speed or calorie count are never quite as discreet as they think they are. After looking, my nosy fellow exerciser often either cranks up his resistance or speeds up his strides, or else smirks in the knowledge that he’s comfortably ahead.

Sadly, at Harvard, some students always feel the need to bring up the number of times they’ve gone to the MAC in daily conversation and then pause as if awaiting a reply. It’s clear that they would feel better if you confessed you had two midterms that day and did not have a chance to go. What should really make these students happy, though, is just the fact that they worked out.

But what provokes this imagined competition? Sure, some thrive on this struggle as a means of motivation, but this satisfaction could find other outlets. Join a sports team, play intramurals, or start a pickup basketball game. While the attitude of an incessant need to be better than everyone else is arguably justifiable in academics, where leadership positions are limited and internships are competitive, it cannot be translated into fitness.

On the exercise machines, there is no real place for any victory other than one over your own self. There’s nothing to lose in working out (except maybe weight); even though the person on the treadmill next to you might have hit the five-mile marker first, your own run was still a successful step on the path toward good health. It should be met with a sense of accomplishment, not defeat.

Besides, with the absence of cable in most Harvard dorm rooms, you should be using your time at the MAC to catch up on Top Chef, not staring at your neighbor’s calorie counter.


Lea J. Hachigian ’12, a Crimson editorial writer, lives in Leverett House.