This past week was Eating Disorder Awareness Week. I was very low key on social media, and by that I mean I didn't post a thing about it. In my defense I have had a lot of "who-the-fuck-am-I thoughts" and Identity crisis going on so I' going to use that as an excuse. (although I'm not sure why I feel the need to explain my decisions- Oh, yeah, it's the people pleasing thing right?) I'm going to get up on my soap box for a second, why do we only get a week? It seems like everything else gets a whole fucking month. The titties get a month, the heart gets a month, but whatever.
It was during this awareness week I really started thinking about my own recovery and what that meant. Everyone's recovery is different. It's so cliche to say because if I had a dollar for every time i heard that, I'd be rich (there's another cliche for you; you're welcome) But nonetheless, it's so very true. Some people find strength in recovery with a drive to have a family. (that scares the shit out of me and would possibly spiral me backward) Others misuse seemingly "healthy" behaviors like exercise, and have to leave those behind. It was in the Awareness week that I discovered that I can be a recovered athelete.
As I laced up my shoes for my obligatory run at 5am on this Carnival-Saturday (it's Mardi Gras for you non-New Orleanians) I took off for our 10 mile loop with a friend. He is a little faster than I would choose to run by myself, but who the hell wants to do 10 miles alone? As we were running I began to think back before I was consumed by my disorder. I have always been naturally good at running. My mom used to check me out of 7th grade to bring me to the high school to participate in the cross country meets. I loved it. As I got older, I got better. Then I hit puberty and started to associate my curves with being "fat" because the numer on the scale said so. To this day, I still have an internal conflict about my boobs (maybe that's why I hold so much hostility to them getting a whole month... but that's a topic for my therapist.) As I sank deeper into my illness, my sport began to suffer. I mean, of course it did. I was leaching all of my energy. It seems simple: eat when you're hungry, get your macronutrients, you'll be fine. Except that we live in a society that tries to eliminate macronutrients. (i.e. low/no fat 80's or low/no carb present day) its a miracle we're not all fucked up (although, I have my opinions about you Keto people) It's amazing what our bodies are capable of when they are properly fueled.
As we rounded the corner for our first water break, I looked to my right where we meet to eat breakfast after we finish our run. I thought of all the miles I ran when I was sick and all the behaviors I used after running going to that diner. I am now thankful I am able to now go and be present with my friends (well, as present as someone is who wakes up at 4:45 on a Saturday, anyway) I am thankful that I have found running again. For a while I wondered if I would be able to continue to run. Exercise is so tabu in the ED community, but everyone's recovery is different.