Day One has gone relatively well. I managed to consume three-ish meals and a few snacks along the way. Certainly not a perfect match to the meal plan my dietitian handed down a few weeks ago, but a much more solid attempt compared to the last two weeks.
And no self-induced vomiting today. A huge accomplishment. And that is not sarcastic...it truly is something to be proud of at this stage of the game.
Notice I used the term "self-induced vomiting" rather than purge...I'll tell you why.
Compulsive exercise is a form of purging. Any anorexic or bulimic person has heard this before from caring doctors and therapists. And it's true, while most of us don't want to admit it. Why is it so hard to wrap a distorted mind around this concept? Because exercise is a much more socially acceptable form of purging compared to sticking fingers down one's throat.
So what's the big deal about exercising too much?
Tonight was the first night I really, truly felt the effects my recent starvation has had on my body. And the way I felt is enough to fuel my motivation to turn things around and really commit to recovery. Mind you, I consider myself to be an athlete. I identify with that persona over many others in my life, including professional, wife, friend, etc. When people ask what makes me, well, me...being an athlete is one of the first things that comes to mind. While my commitment to performance is, in part, what led me down the road to anorexia, it is the threat to my body and overall health that is also steering me in the other direction.
I typically teach fitness classes at my local gym on Thursday nights, but got a sub for my class this evening so I could "recoup" and "relax" after a long and emotional week. I set out to ride an easy 20 miles on my bike ("easy" is a relative term) because, well, exercise addiction is one area of my eating disorder we have yet to fully tackle.
I felt it immediately- the heavy legs, the increased heart rate, the rapid breathing. As a certified personal trainer myself, I knew right away what was happening: my body is lacking stored energy (glycogen). Did it bother me? Absolutely. Did I want to kick the weakness' ass and prove I'm just fine, with or without food? Damn straight. So I kept on truckin' at a high speed. Perfection rearing its ugly head.
I usually love the high I get when completing a challenging workout, race, or competition. I live for it. Tonight, though, when those 20 miles were over, I let out some tears. And not tears of joy.
Dr. Joe is right. I abuse myself. Time and time again. And it needs to stop.
Why do we do this to ourselves? What does completing an utterly draining 20 miles with almost no energy serve to prove? And would I ever tell a training client to "just keep going" in the same situation? Absolutely not.
Eating disordered individuals are some of the toughest-minded people out there: athletically inclined or not. It takes serious mental strength to repeatedly ignore hunger pains, physical weakness, and cravings. But that is not what makes us strong. What makes us strong is telling that critical voice inside to politely f*$% off and do what is best for our bodies: nourish them correctly before using them for work.
Every exercise bulimic (yes, actual term for someone who uses physical activity as a form of purging) experiences a point in a workout in which he or she decides to push beyond the weakness or fatigue. The next time you catch yourself in that moment, ask yourself "Why am I pushing to go further? Is it because I feel strong? Or because I just can't give in?".
Exercise is a great thing. It conditions the mind and body to be strong and efficient. We all need to do it to stay fit and healthy. But too often it becomes punishing. Recognizing the pattern and the motivation behind that punishing or painful workout is another step in the direction of recovery.
From now on, I'm going to try end more workouts with tears of joy...not tears of guilt or pain. You should commit to the same :)
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