I struggled today. Out of nowhere, I suddenly did not want to eat my lunch and fought back tears and the eating disorder voice telling me to "just skip it." I had a bit of a meltdown when I realized I had to go up a size in an Under Armour compression shirt (in that moment, I should have recalled the fact that all of their shirts run super-small and it is probably not me, but Mr. ED was screaming at me). In other words, the eating disorder voice was loud and clear today, barking in my ear.
I ate a turkey sandwich and some other food for lunch. I bought the bigger size. I texted LA for help and she sent me a fiesty (yet encouraging) email containing the f-word. At the end of the day, I suppose I won.
I just finished packing to go away for a short weekend trip to Chicago...with running friends....to run...a half marathon...
I have been registered for this race for several months. Now, before anyone flips out, calls Dr. Joe to try to have me committed, or tries to put a boot on my car to stop me, let me explain this decision.
For starters, I was given the green light to return to running from Dr. K. I have tested my leg twice since then with moderately fast training runs, and felt pretty good. No real pain at, around, or near the site of the stress fracture. Considering I was probably running on the stress fracture all summer long without realizing it, taking a few weeks off was probably all that the crack needed to heal up just fine. The X-ray had even shown a large amount of healing tissue around the fracture, which led Dr. K to believe I was well into the healing stage. Dr. K is also treating me for the other physical issues I am facing at the moment, but is still ok with physical activity (and, yes, she knows me well enough to know that my "physical activity" is a little more than just walking to the mailbox). I have been resting all week, and the reality of the situation is that I am handling the stomach issues as best I can at the moment. I'm taking the medications I've been given, following the doctors' advice, and will be getting an ultrasound on my gallbladder on Monday. Running in this race is not going to change anything (the damage is done and is being dealt with), and all of those problems will still exist whether I lie in bed or go run 13 miles. So I'm running the 13 miles.
Secondly, my approach to this weekend's run couldn't be more different than in the past. Never in my life (seriously- I cannot think of a single time in 28 years) have I participated in a race or sporting event "just because". Sure, I approach (some) training runs or workouts with that attitude, but in general, if there is competition to be had, I'm all in. But this weekend, I am using this opportunity to be with my thoughts, to remind myself who I am, and to find some of the strength I know used to be (and still is) somewhere inside of me. I need to be able to tap into that strength and motivation a bit to get over the hurdles that are sure to come next in this process.
This laid-back approach to the race does not mean that I won't push myself if I feel good, or aim for a PR if it ends up within my reach (doubtful after the time off). But what it does mean is that I will be stepping up to the starting line with no expectations, a positive attitude, and the main goal of having fun and enjoying myself.
Did I mention this race is Halloween-themed? Oh yeah...it is. I'll be running 13 miles dressed as Catwoman, and there are sure to be many other freaks in this race. Needless to say the goal of "having fun" is sure to be met. Runners...we're all a little off anyhow. Just add a holiday and the insanity is taken to a whole new level.
Throughout my recovery, several people have tried to persuade me to stop training, competing, and working out. Most people do not realize that the number of hours I spend each exercising has been cut down by one third, and is much more controlled than it used to be. Reducing the number of hours spent on physical activity was the very first deal Dr. Joe struck with me: I decreased by one third and started eating, and I could continue to train as I pleased. The goal for my recovery was never to move me away from what I love: pushing my limits physically, working out, setting and training towards personal goals. Rather, the goal has always been to find a way to balance my need for intensity with healthy eating habits, an acceptable athletic weight, and an absence of eating disorder behaviors.
Right now, a full marathon and a 50K are goals that lie before me in the new year. Am I ready to tackle them right now? Absolutely not. I know I am not healthy or eating nearly enough to successfully train for either. But I will stick to those goals and use them as fuel to push me forward into the later stages of recovery, where there is little room for obsessing over food and fueling takes priority. These dates are on my calendar and not moving, and the sense of pride I'll feel when I cross the finish line will be even more sweet knowing what I have overcome in order to rebuild my body's strength.
More than likely, I will always be an athlete in some form. Sports and competition have been a part of my life for the majority of the time I have been alive and on this planet. To suggest that I should walk away from a lifestyle I love and enjoy is to take away a very, very big part of who I am. It would also mean I would need to rebuild my after-work wardrobe, since I spend most of my outside-of-the-office time in gym clothes...and I don't really have the money or desire to change my "look" (kidding).
So I keep running. I keep training. I back off when I need to (now, for example), and work towards approaching what I love in a healthier way. But I will never, ever give it up completely. I'm much too driven for that, and I need an outlet for my competitiveness (or else I'd start competing in the office, with friends, with my dog...no one wants that, trust me).
This weekend's run is a step towards restoring a sense of normalcy to my life, especially as I gear up to return back to work later on this week. Running the 13 miles, regardless of the pace or tears shed, will remind me who I am: someone who sets goals and achieves them, someone who supports her friends and loves to watch them achieve, and someone who refuses to be knocked down.
Monday morning, I'll be going through yet another medical procedure, followed by a nutrition therapy appointment with LA. I've dedicated 100% of the last two weeks to getting better, establishing a foundation for long-term recovery, and rebuilding my health after causing some pretty serious damage. But for two hours, I'm just going to enjoy the run and get in touch with the strong, driven, fun-loving girl I know is still inside. I need to get back in touch with her to find the strength to fix what has been broken, forgive myself, and move on to the life (and races!) that lie ahead.
Showing posts with label Training/ Competition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Training/ Competition. Show all posts
Friday, October 29, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Coming Back to Life
Right now, as I sit here in bed typing away on my laptop, The Mr. and our dog are passed out next to me and sleeping soundly. As for me, I'm full of energy and not at all ready for bed. The post-race nap I had earlier helped to renew me a bit, and now my body thinks it's mid-morning when it really should be shutting down for the night.
Today is the first day in a very long time that I feel as though I may be coming back to life a bit and moving to the other, more positive side of recovery. Why do I feel this way?
1. Last night, I actually carb-loaded for the race (a runner ritual I ceased to enjoy when I suddenly became afraid of food). This is why the recovery team hasn't taken away my training. We have one rule: I eat, I get to train and race. They all know my passion for competition is the carrot dangling out front, forcing me to fuel myself. And they are right...an anorexic is not going to shove huge plates of pasta in her mouth without a damn good reason to do so. However, I can honestly say I pigged out on a pre-race carb fest of whole wheat linguine, baguette, spinach salad, and pumpkin cookies without much mental preparation or guilt. I sort of just looked at the pasta, thought about the race ahead and wanting to run a fast time, and loaded up. Ability to carb-load = major progress in the right direction.
2. Being "Me" is taking a lot less effort. Many of my closest friends have been shocked to find out that I have been struggling as much as I have been, given that I tend to mask my weaknesses, struggles with food, and recent bout of depression quite well. I'll admit- keeping up the front that everything is just peachy was really draining, and I questioned more than once why I even tried so hard to do so. But tonight, among my running friends at a post-race party, I noticed I had comfortably slipped back into "Me" without forced effort...laughing, joking, engaging in conversation, living in the moment. Welcome back, Me.
So has my eating disorder vanished? No- I am not that naive. Will it ever go away completely? Probably not. I still sit here right now fighting the urge to purge what I ate at the post-race party (consuming some of the junk food I've been desperately craving seemed like a great idea at the time, given that I had run 13+ miles...not so much right now, though, with the eating disorder screaming in my head). But the two points mentioned above are signs that progress is being made and that there may just be some light at the end of this tunnel in the very near future. Just gotta keep on chippin' with LA's spoon...
And it wouldn't quite be a post-race blog post without telling you about the actual race, right?
Big Local Marathon was an enjoyable one filled with stories of accomplishment and celebration. I ran the first ten miles of the 13.1 with my friend B, and we had a great time making fun of the male runners with their butt cheeks hanging out of their too-short shorts, the relayers taking GU packets on their under-three-mile legs, and the hilarious signs created by the fans on the sidewalks (favorite: "Bloody nipples turn me on"...complete with hand-drawn illustration. Nice). At mile ten, B informed me he had to drop back off my pace, so I hooked up the iPod and took off to the finish line. I ran the exact same time I did in a half marathon three weeks ago (although this course was much more difficult), collected my medal, banana, and bagel and another 13.1 was in the bag.
I took on some extra mileage running in two friends who were completing the 26.2 full marathon and needed a fresh face to run alongside them during the painful last miles. Our running group is a pretty loyal one, and when I received the text that they had hit the wall and needed me to meet them, I didn't think twice about venturing back out onto the course. They both finished (one of them a 26.2 virgin...huge accomplishment!), and I know they will do the same for me one day when I need it too.
The Mr. did very well in his relay leg too. It was nice to have him be part of the race atmosphere, although he still thinks we're all nuts and wouldn't run the distances we do even if a cash offer was part of the deal.
Other friends finished with personal records in both the half and the full. One teammate earned his Marathon Maniac qualification, completing three 26.2's in three weeks. Another beat her half marathon time by two full minutes after coming off an ankle injury, and a Boston Marathon qualification is within reach for one friend (and this was her first full!).
In the words of Dr. Joe (referring to coming back from anorexia): "This is your marathon right now, M."
All in all, it was a hugely successful marathon day...in both the actual race and in my own personal "marathon."
Today is the first day in a very long time that I feel as though I may be coming back to life a bit and moving to the other, more positive side of recovery. Why do I feel this way?
1. Last night, I actually carb-loaded for the race (a runner ritual I ceased to enjoy when I suddenly became afraid of food). This is why the recovery team hasn't taken away my training. We have one rule: I eat, I get to train and race. They all know my passion for competition is the carrot dangling out front, forcing me to fuel myself. And they are right...an anorexic is not going to shove huge plates of pasta in her mouth without a damn good reason to do so. However, I can honestly say I pigged out on a pre-race carb fest of whole wheat linguine, baguette, spinach salad, and pumpkin cookies without much mental preparation or guilt. I sort of just looked at the pasta, thought about the race ahead and wanting to run a fast time, and loaded up. Ability to carb-load = major progress in the right direction.
2. Being "Me" is taking a lot less effort. Many of my closest friends have been shocked to find out that I have been struggling as much as I have been, given that I tend to mask my weaknesses, struggles with food, and recent bout of depression quite well. I'll admit- keeping up the front that everything is just peachy was really draining, and I questioned more than once why I even tried so hard to do so. But tonight, among my running friends at a post-race party, I noticed I had comfortably slipped back into "Me" without forced effort...laughing, joking, engaging in conversation, living in the moment. Welcome back, Me.
So has my eating disorder vanished? No- I am not that naive. Will it ever go away completely? Probably not. I still sit here right now fighting the urge to purge what I ate at the post-race party (consuming some of the junk food I've been desperately craving seemed like a great idea at the time, given that I had run 13+ miles...not so much right now, though, with the eating disorder screaming in my head). But the two points mentioned above are signs that progress is being made and that there may just be some light at the end of this tunnel in the very near future. Just gotta keep on chippin' with LA's spoon...
And it wouldn't quite be a post-race blog post without telling you about the actual race, right?
Big Local Marathon was an enjoyable one filled with stories of accomplishment and celebration. I ran the first ten miles of the 13.1 with my friend B, and we had a great time making fun of the male runners with their butt cheeks hanging out of their too-short shorts, the relayers taking GU packets on their under-three-mile legs, and the hilarious signs created by the fans on the sidewalks (favorite: "Bloody nipples turn me on"...complete with hand-drawn illustration. Nice). At mile ten, B informed me he had to drop back off my pace, so I hooked up the iPod and took off to the finish line. I ran the exact same time I did in a half marathon three weeks ago (although this course was much more difficult), collected my medal, banana, and bagel and another 13.1 was in the bag.
I took on some extra mileage running in two friends who were completing the 26.2 full marathon and needed a fresh face to run alongside them during the painful last miles. Our running group is a pretty loyal one, and when I received the text that they had hit the wall and needed me to meet them, I didn't think twice about venturing back out onto the course. They both finished (one of them a 26.2 virgin...huge accomplishment!), and I know they will do the same for me one day when I need it too.
The Mr. did very well in his relay leg too. It was nice to have him be part of the race atmosphere, although he still thinks we're all nuts and wouldn't run the distances we do even if a cash offer was part of the deal.
Other friends finished with personal records in both the half and the full. One teammate earned his Marathon Maniac qualification, completing three 26.2's in three weeks. Another beat her half marathon time by two full minutes after coming off an ankle injury, and a Boston Marathon qualification is within reach for one friend (and this was her first full!).
In the words of Dr. Joe (referring to coming back from anorexia): "This is your marathon right now, M."
All in all, it was a hugely successful marathon day...in both the actual race and in my own personal "marathon."
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Earning the Jacket
This weekend, the running community around here will all be at Big Local Marathon. I am, of course, registered for my favorite distance, the half marathon. I love 13.1. It's perfect. The Mr. (who is a self-proclaimed non-runner) is tackling the 3.5 mile leg of the 26.2 relay. Without training one bit, he is approaching the race with a nonchalant attitude I don't think I've experienced once in my life.
We could not be more different when it comes to competitiveness.
LA and Dr. Joe are both registered for the race, too. LA in the half, Dr. Joe in the full 26.2. Which brings me to today's blog post topic...Earning the Jacket.
I went into my Dr. Joe appointment today pissed off at the guy. During last week's appointment, I was falling apart in his office, depressed as hell and (probably) was being a 28-year-old brat. I didn't really want to talk, and I was in serious emotional pain. I just wanted to curl up in bed for days and, well, starve. When Dr. Joe realized he was getting nowhere with me, he got Dr. K on the phone (seriously, it can be such a twisted parental relationship with them at times). While on hold with Dr. K's office, he looked at me and said "You are so depressed that I just can't reach you right now."
It hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt instantly abandoned. Abandonment is a huge issue for me, and I typically deal with it by writing off the person I feel has turned their back on me so it doesn't hurt as much to not have them around. Sadly, it's something I've gotten good at throughout my life- building that wall when I need to protect myself. And so I built a wall to block out Dr. Joe. I relied on LA instead this past week, and dreaded meeting with Dr. Joe today because I felt I no longer trusted him and that the strong patient-psychologist relationship we have worked hard to build was trashed.
I won't bore you with the details, but Dr. Joe and I worked it out and I'm back on board with trusting him. Which means I am back to harassing him.
Today's topic of harassment: Dr. Joe Not Earning the Jacket.
Dr. Joe ran 100+ miles last weekend in a 24-hour endurance run, and therefore is going to wimp out on the Big Local Marathon this weekend (as if he has an excuse). However, Dr. Joe tells me he is planning on stopping by the Race Expo tomorrow night to pick up his 26.2 jacket (a coveted artifact from this particular race).
You have to earn the right to wear this stuff. For example, I ran a half marathon several weeks ago and received the hoodie during packet pickup a few days earlier. When I went to wear it, my running friend B said to me: "Don't you dare. That goes in your closet until you actually have actually competed in the race."
(There is one t-shirt I do wear from a 100-miler during which I volunteered. But it says "VOLUNTEER" across the back...it is very evident I did not actually endure the pain of the 100 miles myself, rather, was refilling water bottles and making peanut butter sandwiches at the aid station- not the same thing).
So I automatically respond to Dr. Joe: "You can't wear a jacket from a race you're not going to run."
Dr. Joe, smiling, amused at the directness he has come to know from me: "Well, I will be doing just that." I rolled my eyes and thought to myself...cheater.
Later this evening I received an email from Dr. Joe. It reads exactly: "M- If I paid for the jacket, I don't mind wearing it. And I'm not so easily rattled.... :) -Dr. Joe"
I secretly love that I made him so paranoid about the jacket that he felt the need to follow up in an email hours latter. Ha! And I'm also glad Dr. Joe and I are back to our regular bantering and that I am still able to trust him. I need to have that trust in order to recover. It's crucial.
The Jacket Earning discussion did, however, make me think about my abnormal work ethic, perfectionism, and high standards- all of which are topics regularly discussed in my therapy and eating disorder recovery. When LA questions why I skipped a meal or purged, a standard response from me is: "I didn't deserve to eat that much today. I only worked out for x number of hours or I only ran x number of miles."
I feel like I need to earn everything in my life. Including the right to feed my body. Where does that come from?
The work hard, play later approach has worked well for me. It's brought me success in work, athletics, and in life in general. But it is also what keeps me from taking care of myself and eating like a normal human being.
Does Dr. Joe really need to earn the right to wear the Big Local Marathon jacket? He is, after all, an accomplished marathon runner and ultrarunner. He has done plenty of 26.2s in the past. So has he, in a sense, already earned it?
Do I really need to "earn" the right to eat? I've shown in my life that I am a hard worker, that I strive to be the best I can be, and my accomplishments can speak for themselves. Haven't I, in a sense, already earned the right to take care of myself and be happy?
I'm going to try hard to catch myself before telling LA I didn't earn the right to eat...and to remember that even Dr. Joe- someone I look up to and respect as a professional and a runner- is walking around town wearing a jacket he didn't necessarily "earn." ;)
We could not be more different when it comes to competitiveness.
LA and Dr. Joe are both registered for the race, too. LA in the half, Dr. Joe in the full 26.2. Which brings me to today's blog post topic...Earning the Jacket.
I went into my Dr. Joe appointment today pissed off at the guy. During last week's appointment, I was falling apart in his office, depressed as hell and (probably) was being a 28-year-old brat. I didn't really want to talk, and I was in serious emotional pain. I just wanted to curl up in bed for days and, well, starve. When Dr. Joe realized he was getting nowhere with me, he got Dr. K on the phone (seriously, it can be such a twisted parental relationship with them at times). While on hold with Dr. K's office, he looked at me and said "You are so depressed that I just can't reach you right now."
It hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt instantly abandoned. Abandonment is a huge issue for me, and I typically deal with it by writing off the person I feel has turned their back on me so it doesn't hurt as much to not have them around. Sadly, it's something I've gotten good at throughout my life- building that wall when I need to protect myself. And so I built a wall to block out Dr. Joe. I relied on LA instead this past week, and dreaded meeting with Dr. Joe today because I felt I no longer trusted him and that the strong patient-psychologist relationship we have worked hard to build was trashed.
I won't bore you with the details, but Dr. Joe and I worked it out and I'm back on board with trusting him. Which means I am back to harassing him.
Today's topic of harassment: Dr. Joe Not Earning the Jacket.
Dr. Joe ran 100+ miles last weekend in a 24-hour endurance run, and therefore is going to wimp out on the Big Local Marathon this weekend (as if he has an excuse). However, Dr. Joe tells me he is planning on stopping by the Race Expo tomorrow night to pick up his 26.2 jacket (a coveted artifact from this particular race).
You have to earn the right to wear this stuff. For example, I ran a half marathon several weeks ago and received the hoodie during packet pickup a few days earlier. When I went to wear it, my running friend B said to me: "Don't you dare. That goes in your closet until you actually have actually competed in the race."
(There is one t-shirt I do wear from a 100-miler during which I volunteered. But it says "VOLUNTEER" across the back...it is very evident I did not actually endure the pain of the 100 miles myself, rather, was refilling water bottles and making peanut butter sandwiches at the aid station- not the same thing).
So I automatically respond to Dr. Joe: "You can't wear a jacket from a race you're not going to run."
Dr. Joe, smiling, amused at the directness he has come to know from me: "Well, I will be doing just that." I rolled my eyes and thought to myself...cheater.
Later this evening I received an email from Dr. Joe. It reads exactly: "M- If I paid for the jacket, I don't mind wearing it. And I'm not so easily rattled.... :) -Dr. Joe"
I secretly love that I made him so paranoid about the jacket that he felt the need to follow up in an email hours latter. Ha! And I'm also glad Dr. Joe and I are back to our regular bantering and that I am still able to trust him. I need to have that trust in order to recover. It's crucial.
The Jacket Earning discussion did, however, make me think about my abnormal work ethic, perfectionism, and high standards- all of which are topics regularly discussed in my therapy and eating disorder recovery. When LA questions why I skipped a meal or purged, a standard response from me is: "I didn't deserve to eat that much today. I only worked out for x number of hours or I only ran x number of miles."
I feel like I need to earn everything in my life. Including the right to feed my body. Where does that come from?
The work hard, play later approach has worked well for me. It's brought me success in work, athletics, and in life in general. But it is also what keeps me from taking care of myself and eating like a normal human being.
Does Dr. Joe really need to earn the right to wear the Big Local Marathon jacket? He is, after all, an accomplished marathon runner and ultrarunner. He has done plenty of 26.2s in the past. So has he, in a sense, already earned it?
Do I really need to "earn" the right to eat? I've shown in my life that I am a hard worker, that I strive to be the best I can be, and my accomplishments can speak for themselves. Haven't I, in a sense, already earned the right to take care of myself and be happy?
I'm going to try hard to catch myself before telling LA I didn't earn the right to eat...and to remember that even Dr. Joe- someone I look up to and respect as a professional and a runner- is walking around town wearing a jacket he didn't necessarily "earn." ;)
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Running Puts it All in Perspective...Again
This morning, I was up bright and early to meet a friend for a ten-mile run through my favorite section of the towpath, where the flat, treelined path cuts through the more rugged and challenging trails. I've noticed that few people outside of the athletic community even know of these trails, yet they are the perfect training grounds for marathoners and ultrarunners. I personally love running in this area because it revives me, reminds me who I am, and encourages me to set very lofty goals related to my athletic pursuits.
The small tri-county I call home has a very high concentration of ultrarunners and nationally-known marathoners. It is not uncommon to see someone from our area featured in Runner's World magazine, to hear that someone you regularly pass on the towpath was a top-ten finisher at Badwater Ultramarathon, or that so-and-so down the street just qualified for his/her tenth Boston. I have heard the phrase "I'll be running the full 26.2 at (insert marathon name here), but just to work on speed. I have that 100-miler coming up at the end of the month, ya know..." more than once, and it seems as though everyone I know has a 50K or above on their resume.
Case in point: just before starting this post, I checked the final results of this weekend's endurance run, in which Dr. Joe himself was competing. Dr. Joe himself had a Just Do It weekend, finishing in the top third even with a bum knee.
Depending on how you look at it, this is either the best or worst place on the planet for a competitive overachiever like me.
I run at a slightly faster pace than the person I met out on the towpath this morning, and she is ok with me taking the lead after we warm up. As a result, I had quite a bit of solo run time during which to contemplate what I want to get out of my body while I still can.
I've already registered for a full marathon in March 2011 (a check in the box, really, since running 26.2 has somehow become commonplace around here). I have verbally committed (in my world, a verbal commitment is pretty much an absolute...if I say I'm going to do it, I do it) to a 50K in June. My running friends like to remind me that I also verbally committed to entering a 100-miler in 2012, so I guess I have to add that to the list as well.
Then there are the open water swims. I am dying to add some impressive distances to my List of Accomplishments (that Dr. Joe wants nothing more than to burn) one day...
About a month after my short hospital stay, I relapsed back into my eating disorder by starting to restrict, then starve, then eventually purge again. Just as I was sliding down the same slippery slope and worrying my doctors a little (or a lot), I spent a weekend working an aid station at a 100-mile endurance run with my running group. While working at the mile 58.6 aid station, I connected with some of those most amazing athletes. I know most people looked these runners in the eye and thought "you have got to be absolutely out of your mind to want to run 100 miles."
Not me. Each and every time one of them came through our aid station (broken down, tired, delirious...but still strong and filled with determination) I thought to myself: "I know I have what it takes to do this one day."
And starting with that week, I turned things around in a big way and held it there for quite some time. That 100 mile race was a reminder about who I am, the community I am a part of, and what I may be capable of in the future.
My run this morning gave me that same sense of purpose and drive. I'm not sure why this run was different; perhaps it was the cool, crisp air, the autumn leaves falling around me, or the deer that stared at me as I ran by. For ten miles, I thought to myself: "this is exactly where I belong." While I don't always see it in myself (and certainly haven't recently) I know deep down inside that I have an enormous amount of drive, determination, and grit. I never stop, I never walk, and I do what I say I'm going to do.
I have it in me to run marathons, ultramarathons, and to swim at a competitive level. I have before, and I will do it again. When it comes to eating, coming to terms with adding a few extra pounds of muscle, and overcoming this horrible eating disorder experience, I need to apply the same whatever-it-takes mentality.
The ultrarunners I helped at the 100-miler were not afraid to eat whatever their bodies needed to keep going. They grabbed for the energy bars, GUs, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and pretzels we had out on the table without calculating calories or worrying about what it would do to their figure. They knew they needed the fuel to keep their bodies operating as machines, to complete the challenge. At the ultramarathon level, the science of fueling is just as important as an athlete's physical ability; one missed opportunity to give your body what it needs could mean the difference between a finish and a DNF.
In an email to me once, Dr. Joe wrote: "Both you and I will know when you are ready for the ultramarathon." I know inside that when Dr. Joe starts to prep me mentally for an ultramarathon, whenever that day may be, I have truly overcome my eating disorder.
I'm still very much in the darkness LA referred to recently, and trying to find my way to the light. I know could not run an ultramarathon right now- not because of a lack of physical endurance or strength, but because I would not be able to handle the fueling and nutrition required to complete the task at hand. Hopefully, however, I will get there. In the famous words of Dr. Joe: "THIS is your marathon right now."
Running is my passion. I live for the sense of accomplishment at the end of a long run, and love feeling at one with my surroundings. This morning's ten miler was exactly what I needed to begin to heal from my recent self-hatred, and it encouraged me to keep on chipping away at that mountain because some amazing experiences await on the other side. I'll be able to appreciate my upcoming 26.2, 50K, and possible 100-miler (there you have it...it's now in print and I can't escape it!) a hell of a lot more when I can look back on this time and remember how far I will have come.
I mean, seriously...if I can run a half marathon in under two hours, approach training for a full marathon with abnormal excitement, and will NOT allow myself to get through 2011 without completing a 50K, I can cetainly find the strength in me to eat...right? And I'll bet if I approach these major running milestones with the right attitude, even Dr. Joe will allow me to keep the medals as evidence of the struggles I will have overcome in order to achieve.
The small tri-county I call home has a very high concentration of ultrarunners and nationally-known marathoners. It is not uncommon to see someone from our area featured in Runner's World magazine, to hear that someone you regularly pass on the towpath was a top-ten finisher at Badwater Ultramarathon, or that so-and-so down the street just qualified for his/her tenth Boston. I have heard the phrase "I'll be running the full 26.2 at (insert marathon name here), but just to work on speed. I have that 100-miler coming up at the end of the month, ya know..." more than once, and it seems as though everyone I know has a 50K or above on their resume.
Case in point: just before starting this post, I checked the final results of this weekend's endurance run, in which Dr. Joe himself was competing. Dr. Joe himself had a Just Do It weekend, finishing in the top third even with a bum knee.
Depending on how you look at it, this is either the best or worst place on the planet for a competitive overachiever like me.
I run at a slightly faster pace than the person I met out on the towpath this morning, and she is ok with me taking the lead after we warm up. As a result, I had quite a bit of solo run time during which to contemplate what I want to get out of my body while I still can.
I've already registered for a full marathon in March 2011 (a check in the box, really, since running 26.2 has somehow become commonplace around here). I have verbally committed (in my world, a verbal commitment is pretty much an absolute...if I say I'm going to do it, I do it) to a 50K in June. My running friends like to remind me that I also verbally committed to entering a 100-miler in 2012, so I guess I have to add that to the list as well.
Then there are the open water swims. I am dying to add some impressive distances to my List of Accomplishments (that Dr. Joe wants nothing more than to burn) one day...
About a month after my short hospital stay, I relapsed back into my eating disorder by starting to restrict, then starve, then eventually purge again. Just as I was sliding down the same slippery slope and worrying my doctors a little (or a lot), I spent a weekend working an aid station at a 100-mile endurance run with my running group. While working at the mile 58.6 aid station, I connected with some of those most amazing athletes. I know most people looked these runners in the eye and thought "you have got to be absolutely out of your mind to want to run 100 miles."
Not me. Each and every time one of them came through our aid station (broken down, tired, delirious...but still strong and filled with determination) I thought to myself: "I know I have what it takes to do this one day."
And starting with that week, I turned things around in a big way and held it there for quite some time. That 100 mile race was a reminder about who I am, the community I am a part of, and what I may be capable of in the future.
My run this morning gave me that same sense of purpose and drive. I'm not sure why this run was different; perhaps it was the cool, crisp air, the autumn leaves falling around me, or the deer that stared at me as I ran by. For ten miles, I thought to myself: "this is exactly where I belong." While I don't always see it in myself (and certainly haven't recently) I know deep down inside that I have an enormous amount of drive, determination, and grit. I never stop, I never walk, and I do what I say I'm going to do.
I have it in me to run marathons, ultramarathons, and to swim at a competitive level. I have before, and I will do it again. When it comes to eating, coming to terms with adding a few extra pounds of muscle, and overcoming this horrible eating disorder experience, I need to apply the same whatever-it-takes mentality.
The ultrarunners I helped at the 100-miler were not afraid to eat whatever their bodies needed to keep going. They grabbed for the energy bars, GUs, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and pretzels we had out on the table without calculating calories or worrying about what it would do to their figure. They knew they needed the fuel to keep their bodies operating as machines, to complete the challenge. At the ultramarathon level, the science of fueling is just as important as an athlete's physical ability; one missed opportunity to give your body what it needs could mean the difference between a finish and a DNF.
In an email to me once, Dr. Joe wrote: "Both you and I will know when you are ready for the ultramarathon." I know inside that when Dr. Joe starts to prep me mentally for an ultramarathon, whenever that day may be, I have truly overcome my eating disorder.
I'm still very much in the darkness LA referred to recently, and trying to find my way to the light. I know could not run an ultramarathon right now- not because of a lack of physical endurance or strength, but because I would not be able to handle the fueling and nutrition required to complete the task at hand. Hopefully, however, I will get there. In the famous words of Dr. Joe: "THIS is your marathon right now."
Running is my passion. I live for the sense of accomplishment at the end of a long run, and love feeling at one with my surroundings. This morning's ten miler was exactly what I needed to begin to heal from my recent self-hatred, and it encouraged me to keep on chipping away at that mountain because some amazing experiences await on the other side. I'll be able to appreciate my upcoming 26.2, 50K, and possible 100-miler (there you have it...it's now in print and I can't escape it!) a hell of a lot more when I can look back on this time and remember how far I will have come.
I mean, seriously...if I can run a half marathon in under two hours, approach training for a full marathon with abnormal excitement, and will NOT allow myself to get through 2011 without completing a 50K, I can cetainly find the strength in me to eat...right? And I'll bet if I approach these major running milestones with the right attitude, even Dr. Joe will allow me to keep the medals as evidence of the struggles I will have overcome in order to achieve.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Racing the Non-Racer
This morning I headed to the pool for a workout. I typically use Fridays as a rest day, but wanted to get in some extra exercise before a long weekend roadtrip with my best friends from graduate school. We're heading to Nashville this weekend to "get crazy"...although our roadtrips have gotten decreasingly crazy as we have entered later stages of adulthood. We're even taking a minivan this time (because one of us actually owns one- what have we become?).
Swimming, is, actually, a rather boring sport. Sometimes I can't believe I spent so much of my life staring at a black line, flipping around, and then staring at it some more. Hours and hours spent swimming yard after yard and not really getting anywhere. But there are many times the black line has allowed me to ponder life's ironies.
Most competitive swimmers I know abandon their pre-set workout and begin to speed up when someone new gets into the next lane over. It's a subtle one-upmanship that exists in the sport. I am guilty as charged. Even for just a few hundred yards, I will pick it up until I have convinced myself I am the better swimmer, then settle back into my workout with a renewed comfort that I still have "It". Whatever "It" may be.
I've also picked up this habit in running, thanks to my friend and running partner, B. On our long training runs, we get a rush from slowly closing the gap and picking off the people running ahead of us. Of course, both the swimmer in the pool and the runner up ahead are oblivious to the fact that we are "racing". Yet we (not just me or even B...but all of us perfectionists...come on, admit it. You do it too...) get such satisfaction from winning the race.
Racing the non-racer. Sounds strange. Overly competitive. Obsessive, even.
I decided this morning (after I had "beaten" the oblivious swimmer next to me) that the mentality behind an eating disorder is much the same. Racing the non-racer. Trying to beat myself...but for what?
Last week, I was in full-blown Stubborn Anorexia Mode. Not wanting to eat despite hunger. Not wanting to give in. Wanting to prove how strong I could be, achieving despite disadvantage ("See? I can run a half marathon in under 2 hours with no food in my body!").
And what did Dr. Joe say to me in his so-laid-back-I'm-almost-asleep way?
"Ok, M. You win."
I was winning a race with myself. And sure, I won. But who is an anorexic person competing against, really?
Herself. And she doesn't even know she is in the race.
Swimming, is, actually, a rather boring sport. Sometimes I can't believe I spent so much of my life staring at a black line, flipping around, and then staring at it some more. Hours and hours spent swimming yard after yard and not really getting anywhere. But there are many times the black line has allowed me to ponder life's ironies.
Most competitive swimmers I know abandon their pre-set workout and begin to speed up when someone new gets into the next lane over. It's a subtle one-upmanship that exists in the sport. I am guilty as charged. Even for just a few hundred yards, I will pick it up until I have convinced myself I am the better swimmer, then settle back into my workout with a renewed comfort that I still have "It". Whatever "It" may be.
I've also picked up this habit in running, thanks to my friend and running partner, B. On our long training runs, we get a rush from slowly closing the gap and picking off the people running ahead of us. Of course, both the swimmer in the pool and the runner up ahead are oblivious to the fact that we are "racing". Yet we (not just me or even B...but all of us perfectionists...come on, admit it. You do it too...) get such satisfaction from winning the race.
Racing the non-racer. Sounds strange. Overly competitive. Obsessive, even.
I decided this morning (after I had "beaten" the oblivious swimmer next to me) that the mentality behind an eating disorder is much the same. Racing the non-racer. Trying to beat myself...but for what?
Last week, I was in full-blown Stubborn Anorexia Mode. Not wanting to eat despite hunger. Not wanting to give in. Wanting to prove how strong I could be, achieving despite disadvantage ("See? I can run a half marathon in under 2 hours with no food in my body!").
And what did Dr. Joe say to me in his so-laid-back-I'm-almost-asleep way?
"Ok, M. You win."
I was winning a race with myself. And sure, I won. But who is an anorexic person competing against, really?
Herself. And she doesn't even know she is in the race.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Perfectionism Rears It's Ugly Head
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 :)
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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