Tags
anorexia, Body Image, eating disorder, EDNOS, orthorexia, recovery, skinny, strength, strong, weight, weight gain, women
Finally, it seems, I have found a happy relationship with exercise. This is a relationship that leaves me feeling empowered, not weak and vulnerable, and gives me a sense of accomplishment outside of losing weight or calculating calories. Hello muscles, goodbye skinny.
Before I launch into my speech on why I’m loving the weight room, I should probably give you a little bit of my history as it pertains to exercise.
Pre-ED : During my sophomore and junior years of high school I was at my peak. I was happy, healthy and active. By this point I had given up most of the processed foods that used to weigh (quite literally) on my energy and well-being. I had a new-found interest in baking, and could often be found making delicious whole-wheat, high-fiber concoctions in my kitchen. I was on my high school track team so I was running or lifting 5x a week and I saw food as fuel and nothing more.
My Darkest ED Days: Then came my senior year. My beloved track coach had left to pursue a better job at a nearby high school and I found that I simply did not wish to rejoin the team. I had never been completely in love with running and without him I saw no reason to run. I stopped seeing food as anything more that a hinderance and something I didn’t deserve because I wasn’t active at all. I consumed only my BMR worth of calories because without the exercise, I saw no need for the additional calories.
The Days of Ins-and-Outs: I finally realized I looked disgusting and needed to put on weight ASAP. At only 82 pounds my once muscular body had been reduced to near skeleton proportions. I decided to eat more and gain. I gained to 95pounds over a few months with no exercise and left for college more hopeful than ever. I felt I was ready to maintain and I eagerly looked to the expensive university gym to help me achieve this. I saw the flocks of girls rapidly churning away on the elliptical and I thought, ‘that must be what girls who maintain do.’ I started off with a measly 10 minutes – I didn’t need to lose, just go long enough to reap the cardiovascular benefits. Well, my competitive, addictive personality got the best of me and soon I was logging an hour a day, every day. I could not skip, no matter what. Of course, these machines also came with handy-dandy little calories burned features, thus sparking another obsession. I came to carefully track every single calorie in so it precisely matched every calorie out, no exceptions – ever. As finals approached and my stress grew, so did my workout routines. Quite obviously this mix meant I lost quite a bit of weight (around 7 pounds) from my already tiny physique. I felt tired, depressed and weak; three things that definitely did not help me in the least.
Finding My Inner Strength: I have rediscovered what it feels to work out to gain strength, not burn calories. I view exercise as something to be completed weekly, not daily, and as a way to make my body stronger and more shapely. I no longer wish to ‘burn-off’ every calorie I take in. In fact, I find myself pushing to eat more in order to feed my growing body. I am finally growing in the right way, becoming more wholesome in the process.
So, I say, we recovering eating disorder victims are often unfairly stereotyped. We are said to be not only weak of mind, but weak of body as well. They are wrong. As we feed our minds with wholesome food, should we not also be fueling our body as well?
In this case, food alone is not enough to heal us, it takes a physical push as well. Strength training gives us the physical strength to take on the mental battles that await us. When I find myself contemplating restriction, I remember all the hard-work I put into my muscles at the gym. I know that without adequate nutrition, all that work will be for nothing and my muscles will, quite literally, be left starving. It would be a waste.
I may be rather tiny, but just look at what a month of weightlifting can do! Sure my body is still entirely too small, and I know I have quite a long road ahead of me, but right now I’m damn proud that my arms have very nearly doubled in size. I can cart around my oversize backpack on legs made of muscle rather than flubber.
I am strong, and let me tell you, it’s a hell of a lot better than being skinny.
R