Running Strong

Okay, so I am a bit overdue on this one...warning, I get into some tough stuff in this one.

Five and a half weeks to the Manchester Half, and I am feeling pretty good. My long runs have been good, and I PRed in a 5k I ran a week and a half ago. My lungs are good - my legs are strong, but there are still some days they feel like dead weight. But overall, I am feeling good going into this last stretch.

A good part of the difference for me this time has to be due to the "Boot Camp" workout I am doing once a week at Diamond Fit Diva Studio. I get my butt kicked by Ta'mara for an hour every Tuesday, and I usually feel it the rest of the week.  Well worth it, though, as I have definitely seen the impact on my running. And a huge "thanks" shout out to my girl, Meg.  Knowing she will be there every week helps to keep me going.

So, I am feeling stronger than I ever have, and yet...

Remember when I hinted at a blog about another reason I run? Well, here goes.

Two and a half weeks ago, I had a kind of rough long run. I had eaten too much too close to heading out, and I wanted to throw up. No, really. I wanted to stop running and throw up.

One in five women has struggled with some level of disordered eating according to the latest statistics I could find. One in five is a lot, but if you count people like me, it's probably a lot higher.

I have never been diagnosed with an eating disorder. I have never gone even a day without eating, and I have never made myself vomit. However, I have tried. I have gotten awfully close, and yet, something has always made me stop. Something inside of me says, "This won't work. This won't fix what's bothering you." Somehow in those most desperate moments, something rational in me has jumped in and stopped me. Thank God.

Most of the time I don't feel this way, and I have only gotten to those absolute darkest places maybe five times in my life. But when the feelings come, they always sneak up on me.  I will be going along fine, or so I think, and then I will be in a locked in a mortal struggle with the scale. I will fall into a binge of junk food and have a fleeting thought about making myself throw up. Sometimes the thought won't be fleeting. I am grateful I have been able to overcome it, but I recognize that I am not invincible in this area. Many of my friends have dealt with diagnosed eating disorders, some of whom are probably reading this. What has kept me from being one of them? I am not entirely sure, but their strength in the struggle is commendable.

So on that long run where I wanted to throw up, I faced those thoughts head on. I first reminded myself that I absolutely hate puking. Seems obvious, but I had to start small. I kept running. I thought about my friends who had eating disorders; I thought about my students.  I kept running. I thought about my girls; I ran harder. I ran away from those thoughts, that dark place. I ran towards strength.

Right now, what is keeping my issues in check is a shift in my focus. I am thinking about being strong. My quads are like rocks at the moment - thanks, to lots of squats and running - and that helps me get past the fact that my thighs still rub together. (Don't even get me started on the cultural obsession with the thigh gap.) As part of a challenge from T'amara, I have not weighed myself in weeks, and while I haven't felt the change in fit of my clothes, I have noticed a change in my endurance. And isn't that what I want, really? Isn't that what I want my daughters to aim for - a faster 5k, not a smaller dress size?

One in five women, probably far more -- far too many. How can I keep my girls from joining those ranks? When I had Clare, I made a promise that she would never hear me say anything negative about my body. No pinching of my tummy roll, no sucking in my gut, no sighing over jiggly arms. No use, ever, of the word "fat" in relation to a feeling or describing how I look. With two daughters now, it's twice as important. We talk about eating healthy foods and being strong. And I try to remember all the awesome things my body has done and continues to do. It can run, it can dance - it has safely carried and delivered my darling babies.  How dare I think it anything less than amazing? And in a few weeks it will amaze me again as it plods 13.1 hilly miles. It really is one awesome body after all.

Note: I have been very open with my issues with Dan from the beginning, and I have also discussed them with a counselor.  If you are struggling with an eating disorder or know someone who might be, please seek help from a professional.