In my years after college I made a lot of progress. I wasn’t competing so seriously in running anymore and I had come a LONG way from the days of severe diet restriction and crippling anxiety around food. I enjoyed a Christmas cookie or two, I had plenty of nights out partying and enjoying a slice of late night pizza, I was traveling, I had strong friendships, and a beautiful relationship with my now fiancé. It probably looked like I had it all together.

But in truth, I was still being held captive by exercise and food. I couldn’t let go of my daily runs, and I continued to carefully consider each bite I’d put in my mouth. I wasn’t avoiding social events anymore, but I was still anxious eating at restaurants, I was pretty rigid with meal times, I was nervous when others would cook for me, I weighed in daily, and I did regular body checks in the mirror. I just couldn’t let it all go. And I was kind of proud of that because it made me feel strong. It made me feel disciplined. I didn’t want total freedom because that would mean letting myself go. It would mean giving up control and giving up my identity.

Remember how I am a health coach, and have a degree in Athletic Counseling? Yeah, seems like I should have had it all figured out. And the rational, educated me knew that the stress I was putting my body through wasn’t healthy mentally or physically. I have successfully coached thousands of individuals in finding a healthy balance with both diet and exercise. But for some reason all of what I knew and what I talked through with clients didn’t apply to me. It was my job to be thin, and to run fast and far. 

Although I wasn’t inclined to make changes, I did recognize that I wasn’t in the healthiest place and started following some YouTubers who talked about their experiences with eating disorders/restriction and recovery. some of my favorites are Kate Noel, Stephanie Buttermore, and Natacha Oceane). I also listened to Podcasts like Tina Muir’s Running for Real, and Tawnee Gibson’s Endurance Planet. I looked at these women with such admiration. They are so brave to give up their eating disorders and their exercise addictions. But me? I could never do that. I didn’t even want to do that.

Last year, something began switching in my brain. I felt the urge to let go. I felt exhausted. I didn’t want to be thinking about food all the time and I didn’t want to feel obligated to run each morning. For the first time, I decided that I wanted to be done. I wanted out. 

I was tired of basing my self-worth on what the scale read, and on how many miles I ran each week. I was tired of protecting my identity as a skinny runner, and of missing out on the enjoyment of food. I was tired of planning my life around workouts, and stressing about going on trips because I didn’t know if I’d be able to get my daily run in while away from my safe space/routine. I was tired of waking up before the sun to workout if I had a busy day. I decided I needed this to end.

Once I made that decision, the decision that I was sick of the life I had built for myself, I changed. I said it out loud to my family, my close friends, and my fiancé. I told them I was ready to alter my lifestyle for good this time and to let go of the demon that had a hold on me for way too long. Speaking those words and feeling their support empowered me. I got rid of my scale, I eat to satiety, I allow myself to enjoy those old “fear foods,” I cut my running in half, I take complete rest days, and I started to put on weight. And the best part is that I wasn’t so anxious about it, because suddenly it didn’t feel like giving up control. It felt like I was gaining the control to live the quality of life I really want.

Making the decision to quit the life that I had created (a life of rigidity and anxiety) created space for things like lazy Sundays, birthday cake, yoga, cooking, better relationships, and excitement to travel and see the world. I gave up what I had held on to for so long and I gained energy, a healthy woman’s body, a bigger and brighter smile, a renewed love for running, and so much more. 

Do I still have those difficult days? Sure. I get a little anxious when I notice my clothes fitting a bit differently or when I see photos of those elite runners who seem to workout 24/7. But when I have those difficult moments, I remind myself of what I traded in my running addiction and eating disorder for. And that is enough to never, ever go back. For the first time in years, I feel free and I feel confident that I have finally gotten past that seemingless endless journey.