Intuitive Exercise

I can't go to the gym anymore. I'm relieved I'm not teaching anymore, so I don't have to set foot in the gym again. I don't believe in gyms. Here's why:

My History: I have had a gym membership since I was ten. No ten year old should be "working out." They should be outside, exploring the world, playing tag, and figuring out how their body moves in space, not trapped in a building lifting weights, measuring cardio and calories. This began an unhealthy relationship with exercise I've spent the last few years repairing.

The Numbers: The gym is nothing but numbers. How much can I lift? How many calories can I burn? How much resistance can I put on the elliptical? Being surrounded by numbers takes away the intuition of exercise. The way my brain operates, I get too focused on the numbers. I get obsessive about the numbers and I stop thinking about how I feel. I stop listening to my body and just try to accomplish numbers. As though my worth is numerical. I get obsessive about numbers instead of focusing on my intuition and knowing what my body needs.

The Scales: At the gym where I taught spin, there is a huge scale. Right out in the open, right by the water fountain. I have an involved history, a complex relationship with scales, and having that scale towering over me as I filled up my water bottle is haunting. I can be proud of myself that I never stepped on. I never jumped onto the crazy train and weighed myself. There is a huge conflict with intuitive exercise, scales, and numbers. For someone with an eating disorder, the number will never be low enough. It's predictable every time I step on the scale. If the number is higher than expected I freak out and take desperate measures to shrink my body. If the number is lower than expected, I congratulate myself for a split second, before pursuing the high of weight loss once again. Many can relate to this relationship with the scale. Before I smashed my scale (yes, I smashed my scale with a shovel, there's a video clip of it, it's awesome), my scale was my best friend and told me how to treat myself everyday. It dictated how I felt about myself and how I was allowed to behave, how I saw myself in the world. Since gaining my freedom with the bashing of my scale I will not step on a scale, it gets in the way of taking good care of myself. Stepping on scales takes away your intuition about your body. It assigns you to a number. I refuse to be a number anymore. To be more intuitive I step away from scales, and numbers, and listen to my body's needs.

The Mirrors: They are everywhere, reflecting me back an image of myself I'm never sure is accurate. An image that can change day to day, even minute to minute. Having distorted body image, and a desperate need to body check, is dangerous when surrounded by mirrors. Body image is how one sees themselves. Someone with a distorted view of their body will perceive their body as much larger than reality. This can be triggered by negative emotions, feelings of shame or guilt, or feeling stressed. When I'm upset, suddenly I perceive my body as many pounds heavier than I was even a few minutes earlier. Mirrors reflect this larger body back at me, encouraging me to take measures to pursue the ideal body type, as though if I changed my body, my mental state would improve. This is how mirrors wreak havoc on the intuition.

Intuitive exercise, for me, is listening to my body; resting when I am tired and playing when I am energetic. I even stopped using the word exercise, because it's triggering. I use the word play. Going outside and breathing fresh air, running, riding, skiing, climbing mountains. All of this is my playtime. Intuitive exercise is feeling your energy and how it manifests in your movement, how you move through the world. All of this takes place outside of a gym. Be good to your body. Listen. Get outside and play.

The Power of Sharing Your Story

This is a really exciting day. I'm taking the privacy settings off my blog and inviting you all to be a part of a community and a cause. I'm learning that the more people I share my experiences with, the more people I can help, and have a positive effect on. If you have not been here before, welcome. Enjoy. Please share with anyone you think can benefit. Thanks for reading.

Eating disorders thrive in secrecy, isolation, and shame. To combat eating disorders, over 600 people came together to share their stories, educate, and advocate last week at the annual National Eating Disorder Association Conference in Washington, DC. There was no judgement of anyone's experience, just curious inquiries. Everyone at the conference knew that those of us in recovery are fighting the fight of our lives, we didn't have to explain a thing. People were there for all reasons; clinicians, family members, and those there for themselves. We were surrounded by knowledge and stories, experiences, and a passion to fight the eating disorder epidemic. 

Three hundred of us took this passion to our nation's Capitol, in the pouring rain, despite the government shut down, and we lobbied for eating disorders to be recognized as mental disorders so insurance companies would cover treatment as such. We lobbied for legislators to join the National Eating Disorder Awareness Caucus. This would request a study from the Government Accountability Office (GAO) to research prevalence, cost to society, and mortality of eating disorders. We explained that these disorders are extremely complicated, hard to understand and more research needs to be done on them. We explained the caucus and the FREED Act (which would improve access to care, research, and education of professionals). We spouted off statistics; that 30 million Americans are struggling with this life threatening disorder. But what they were most interested in were our stories. How I've been dieting since I was 8. How I developed a full blown eating disorder at 14. How I went to treatment for 101 days when I was 21. How I'm watching my peers pay off student loans and I'm paying off treatment. How I'm doing really well now. I'm really lucky. These are our stories and they are powerful. I've said it many times that my story is not unique. 30 million in the United States, and that doesn't count the sub-clinical disordered eating population. 

I had the pleasure to speak to House member Cheri Bustos. I felt I represented all women struggling with eating disorders when I informed her that my story is in no way unique. The statistics are horrifying. I was proud to put a face on eating disorders, and let our legislators know that this is a problem that needs addressing. 

If you have a story to tell, you can let the legislators know. Send a letter of advocacy. NEDA has made this really easy. Go to www.myneda.org/caucus and fill out the form. The letter is already written, you can personalize it, or just send it to your representative. 

Remember eating disorders thrive in secrecy, isolation, and shame. Take action, take power away from the eating disorder. There is momentum for these initiatives, now that they've seen us all over the Capitol. We've got a case, we've got a cause. Keep fighting the fight of your life. This experience was a chance for me to wear my recovery as a badge of honor. I'm proud of where I've been, what I've been through, and who I am today. There is power in sharing your story and bringing light to an issue that is in no way shameful. There is power in advocating for the millions of people I wish were not going through what I went through. Keep fighting, advocating, and educating.