You’re Looking at Exercise All Wrong
- Yvette E. McDonald, LCSW-QS, CMNCS, NTP
- Jul 3
- 6 min read
How I Stopped Chasing Calories and Started Supporting My Brain, Body, and Nervous System
“What if movement wasn’t something you had to force yourself to do? What if it became one of the greatest forms of self-care instead?”
For most of my life, I looked at exercise the way many of us were taught to.
Exercise was for losing weight.
It was something you did after eating too much.
Something you were supposed to do.
Something that required motivation, discipline, and usually an hour of your day.
And if you weren’t sore afterward… did it even count?
As a psychotherapist and Nutritional Therapy Practitioner, I hear these beliefs every week from clients. But the truth is, I used to believe them too. In fact, the first time I started changing my relationship with movement, I jokingly called it my “ADHD Exercise Plan.”
Every morning I would wake up and ask myself one simple question:
“How do I feel like moving today?”
Some days it was boxing.
Some days it was walking.
Some days it was lifting weights.
Other days it was yoga or stretching.
There wasn’t a schedule.
There wasn’t guilt if I changed my mind.
There wasn’t pressure to make every workout “count.”
I wasn’t trying to optimize anything.
I was simply trying to find a way to move that didn’t feel like punishment.
Looking back, I realize that little experiment changed far more than my workout routine.
It completely changed my relationship with my body.
Movement Became My Teacher
At the time, I thought I was just making exercise easier for my ADHD brain. I had no idea I was beginning to learn the language of my nervous system. As someone who has both ADHD and autism, I eventually realized something fascinating.
My ADHD and my autism didn’t always want the same things.
My ADHD loved novelty.
My autistic nervous system loved predictability.
Instead of fighting those differences, I became curious about them. I noticed boxing kept my ADHD brain engaged. I realized I genuinely enjoyed lifting weights because the structure, repetition, and routine felt calming rather than boring. I fell in love with wearing a weighted vest because the deep pressure feedback made my body feel grounded. Walking outside became more than exercise, it became therapy. Nature offered something no treadmill ever could. The changing scenery, fresh air, wildlife, sunlight, and quiet became regulating in ways I hadn’t expected. I also discovered that my environment mattered.
I’m heat sensitive. Working out in an air-conditioned space isn’t a preference, it’s an accommodation that helps my nervous system function better.
These weren’t random preferences.
They were clues.
My body was teaching me what helped it thrive.
A Note About This Article: This article combines current research, my experience as a licensed psychotherapist and Nutritional Therapy Practitioner, and lessons from my own health journey. My goal is to translate the science into practical, compassionate strategies you can apply in everyday life.
Then My Blood Sugar Entered the Conversation
Just when I thought I had figured out movement, another piece of the puzzle appeared.
Insulin resistance.
As I began learning more about metabolic health, I realized movement wasn’t just affecting my mood.
It was affecting my blood sugar.
I watched how even a short walk after a meal changed my glucose response. I learned that my muscles weren’t just helping me become stronger, they were becoming one of the biggest tools for improving insulin sensitivity. Suddenly, strength training wasn’t about changing how I looked. It was about helping my body use glucose more efficiently.
Walking wasn’t “just cardio.”
It was supporting my metabolism.
Movement had become medicine.
Not because it burned calories.
Because it helped my body function the way it was designed to.
Then Perimenopause Changed the Rules Again
Just when I thought I had finally figured it all out…
Perimenopause arrived.
The workouts that energized me in my thirties didn’t always leave me feeling good anymore.
Recovery mattered more.
Sleep mattered more.
Stress mattered more.
Strength training became less about aesthetics and more about preserving muscle, supporting bone density, improving insulin sensitivity, and protecting my future health.
Some days my body wanted intensity.
Other days it needed gentleness.
Both were productive.
Both honored what my body needed in that season.
Once again, movement asked me to become a student instead of assuming I already had the answers.
We’ve Been Asking the Wrong Question
One of the biggest reasons people struggle with movement is because we’ve been taught to ask one question:
“How many calories did I burn?”
Imagine if we replaced that with different questions.
Did I lower my stress today?
Did I improve my focus?
Did I help regulate my nervous system?
Did I support my hormones?
Did I improve my insulin sensitivity?
Did I build stronger bones?
Did I sleep better tonight?
Did I become a little more resilient?
Those are the questions that actually determine long-term health. Weight loss might happen. It might not. But your body is changing long before the scale ever notices.
What the Science Actually Says
One of my favorite books on this subject is Spark by Dr. John Ratey, which explores how profoundly movement influences the brain.
Over the past two decades, the research has continued to reinforce what many of us are now seeing clinically.
Regular movement has been shown to support:
Executive functioning
Attention and concentration
Learning and memory
Emotional regulation
Mood and anxiety
Sleep quality
Insulin sensitivity
Blood sugar regulation
Bone density
Muscle preservation
Heart health
Reduced inflammation
Longevity and healthy aging
That’s remarkable.
Yet somewhere along the way, we reduced all of those benefits to one number on the bathroom scale.
We made weight loss the goal, when in reality it may simply be one of many positive side effects.
Maybe You Don’t Need More Motivation
As I sit with clients, I rarely find that motivation is the real problem.
More often, I find people carrying years of unrealistic expectations.
“I don’t have an hour.”
“I hate gyms.”
“I’m too old.”
“I’ve never been athletic.”
“If I miss a day, I’ve failed.”
“I should enjoy running.”
“If I don’t lose weight quickly, why bother?”
These aren’t facts. They’re beliefs. Many were handed to us by diet culture, comparison, or experiences that taught us movement had to be difficult to be worthwhile.
The truth?
Your body isn’t grading you. It’s responding to what you consistently ask it to do.
Every walk matters.
Every stretch matters.
Every strength workout matters.
Every dance in your kitchen matters.
Every time you choose movement, you’re sending your brain and body the message:
“This body is worth investing in.”
A New Relationship With Movement
Today, I no longer follow my old “ADHD Exercise Plan.” I don’t wake up each morning wondering what I feel like doing. Over the years, that experiment evolved into something much deeper.
I learned what supports my ADHD.
I learned what regulates my autistic nervous system.
I learned what my metabolism needs.
I learned what my hormones need during perimenopause.
Most importantly, I learned that movement isn’t about forcing my body to become someone else’s version of healthy. It’s about listening closely enough to discover what my body needs. And that’s the invitation I’d like to leave with you.
Not to copy my routine.
Not to chase someone else’s workout.
But to become curious about your own.
Because every body is different.
Every brain is different.
Every season of life is different.
The goal isn’t to find the perfect exercise. The goal is to build a relationship with movement that allows your brain and body to thrive for decades to come.
Reflection Questions
Before you worry about creating the perfect workout plan, spend a few moments getting curious.
What messages did I grow up believing about exercise?
Do I view movement as punishment or as care?
When do I feel most energized to move?
What types of movement have I genuinely enjoyed throughout my life?
What barriers am I trying to push through that might actually need accommodations instead?
If weight loss wasn’t the goal, how would I choose to move?
Sometimes transformation doesn’t begin with changing your routine. Sometimes it begins by changing the question you’re asking.
Coming Next in the Series
In the next article, we’ll take a deeper look at why movement is one of the most powerful tools we have for supporting the ADHD brain. We’ll explore dopamine, executive functioning, motivation, why traditional fitness advice often falls short for neurodivergent minds, and practical ways to build a movement routine that works with your brain instead of against it.
Yvette McDonald, LCSW-QS, is a licensed psychotherapist, Nutritional Therapy Practitioner (NTP). She specializes in helping individuals and couples understand the connection between the brain, nervous system, hormones, nutrition, and emotional well-being. Her approach blends neuroscience, nutritional therapy, and compassionate clinical care to help people create sustainable, whole-person health.
References & Further Reading
The ideas discussed in this article are informed by current research and clinical practice. If you’d like to explore the science further, here are a few excellent resources:
American College of Sports Medicine. (2022). ACSM’s Guidelines for Exercise Testing and Prescription.
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Physical Activity Basics. https://www.cdc.gov/physicalactivity/
Department of Health and Human Services. Physical Activity Guidelines for Americans, 2nd Edition.
National Institute on Aging. Exercise and Physical Activity.
Ratey, J. J., & Hagerman, E. (2008). Spark: The Revolutionary New Science of Exercise and the Brain. Little, Brown and Company.
