United Nations of Ana

“Be Careful what you wish for; it may just come true”.

Wining and dining in beautiful Queenstown....that wish came true!

Wining and dining in beautiful Queenstown….that wish came true!

I’ve noticed over the years, that when I really visualise and wish for something to happen, more often than not it has come about. As a student of science – two university science-based degrees, in fact – I do understand the absurdity of this statement. But on the flipside, as a Physiotherapist who largely works with athletes, I am also hesitant to brush off the power of the mind and the power of intention in making things happen. An advocate of “hippie medicine” I am not; but a believer in the human mind, very much so.

Just last week a colleague and I gave a presentation to a group of runners about the power of visualisation, in terms of goal setting and forming one’s identity. What athletes do really well, that “normal” people do not, is to clearly establish an image in their minds’ eye of what their goals are, what their body looks and functions like, and how they will perform on race day. They stick posters on their bedroom walls, photos in their wallets and cars, have firm self-affirmations and use frequent visualisation to enable them to see the future they want to create and to assist in their pursuit of excellence.

Let’s flip that equation. How often do you see someone who has been overweight and inactive for their entire adult life, go ahead and lose 20kg, along the way learning how to maintain that loss, only to turn around and put it back on? Often, the new lifestyle has been achieved, but the person has failed in their mind’s eye to identify this new person in the mirror, who is “healthy” weight and active. They don’t recognise themselves. So they go back to their place of comfort.

Sound familiar? Nowhere is this phenomenon more important than with ED patients trying to recover. We are the ultimate masters of visualisation and affirmation – Ana makes damn sure that the little birdy on our shoulder never shuts up, providing an incessant stream of buzz words and “motivations” to become the ultimate weight loss machine. Do we recognize ourselves when we get there? Hell yes, we have been dreaming day and night of reaching that mystical land and no person on the planet is going to take it away. Hello Ana!

Only that is not you. That is Ana you are seeing in the mirror. Somewhere in the process, Ana takes over and the real You becomes a mute little birdy on the other shoulder.

During the long and arduous process of recovery, it becomes so important to bring that birdy back to life, for if you cannot see You in the mirror along the road to health, the risk is that Ana will pull you back to the land of “comfort”.

Easy to say, hard to do. How does one find a new sense of self – particularly for someone like me, who lost that sense of self at around 12 and then had to try to find an adult identity at age 22? We use the same tools that we learnt so well during the Ana years. Flip that bitch on it’s head. When it comes to the power of the mind, no-one – elite athletes included – does it better than an Anorexia sufferer.

The first thing that I did was to find images of athletes who I thought were realistically about the same size frame as me (height and muscularity etc), and had beautiful, fit, lean, muscular and healthy bodies. The more they look like you (a healthy version of you….), the better. Then I wrote out quotes and powerful affirmations for me, as simple as “I am an athlete”, “I am strong”, “I am beautiful”. I needed to be healthy to finish my first Ironman, so I included photos of glowing Ironman finishers as well. I plastered these words and images all around my mirror and through my training diary, as a constant reminder of where I wanted to head. I was creating an image of my future life in my all-important mind’s eye. So that when I got there I would recognise the person staring back at me in the mirror. I knew what Ana looked like; I just had to work out what I looked like.

Over the next months and years, the photos and words got updated and I started to build “me”. And then a funny thing happened. I finished my first Ironman, and the finisher photos get sent out a few weeks later. I stuck one of them up on my wall, then took a step back.  It fit right in, amidst the photos I had put up there to visualise my future with.  I had to smile.

The magical glow of the Ironman Finish Shute - Cairns 2012

The magical glow of the Ironman Finish Shute – Cairns 2012

The transformation didn’t happen overnight, and I still don’t love what I see in the mirror. I still spend countless hours talking to my Psychologist about the division between what I see, and what others in my world see (I get very confused when people tell me I’m attractive, stunning, slim etc as I do not see any of those things – it’s a work in progress). But the most important thing is I do see me in the mirror. It’s familiar, and it’s a body that can achieve amazing things, and a mind that spends most of its days helping people with their health, and that is a beautiful thing.

I will never stop doing this process, as it has bode me well during my recovery years and so long as I am doing my life’s dance on this epic planet, I will never stop trying to achieve amazing things. In the future the images will change as my life evolves, and I can’t wait to see how the rest of my life unfolds.

Bring it on.

K xo

“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, ‘I used everything you gave me’.”

– Erma Bombeck

Insecurities

“Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog
Where no one notices the contrast of white on white

And in between the moon and you, angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right

Well, I walk in the air between the rain
Through myself and back again
Where? I don’t know”

– Round Here, Counting Crows

Please read the following scenarios and choose the most correct answer:

1) You are an elite female triathlete with the following stats to your name: two sub-9hour Ironman finishes, <12% body fat and arguably one of the fittest bodies on the planet. When asked your weight in an interview, would you:

a. Tell the truth – your body is a weapon, your job, and a beautiful machine and you are proud of it!
b. Take off 5kgs from the true amount; you think you are ‘heavy’ with the muscle on your frame and your height.
c. Refuse to answer.

2) You are an athlete who has had an eating disorder in the past, you are now recovered but do not know your weight. You haven’t been able to run for 6 months due to injury, but have the chance to run on an Alter G treadmill that your sports doctor has arranged. In order to use it, you and your doctor will find out your weight. Do you:

a. Get on it – to hell with my weight I am desperate to run!
b. Agree to use it as long as you don’t need to find out the weight, then proceed to have a meltdown about it anyway, fearing that your doctor will think you’re the most obese athlete on the planet;
c. Gracefully decline. You are desperate to run, but the trauma of going through being weighed is just too much.

What would you do?

WA Ironman 2009

WA Ironman 2009

Impossible scenarios like this face us day in, day out, when we have the tracks of a previous ED in our scar tissue. We may be doing well for the majority of life’s intricacies, but there will always be situations like the above that will either get our blood boiling, or mentally challenge us more than is desirable (I don’t think it’s considered “normal” to have a panic attack at the thought of someone else knowing your weight….).
The first scenario makes me so furious that it sends me searching for my soapbox – in fact, I did send a huge ranting email to my good friend and doctor about the exact situation. I have been in the fortunate scenario to be on a squad alongside professional Ironman athletes for the last few years, and some of the best female triathletes on the planet to that end. Our head coach boasted more sub-9hour females on his squad than any other coach worldwide. It has been incredibly insightful and for the most part beneficial for me to be able to access their wealth of experience and knowledge and to apply that to my own racing and training.

But it doesn’t come without some serious eye-opening of the bad kind. Over the years, as you get more “well”, your triggers become so much more obvious. Racing has always been one of my biggest triggers – lining up on the start line in little more than some loud flimsy lycra is one thing; having that then photographed and marketed back to you in the eschewing weeks is truly disconcerting. No-one looks good in lycra, just putting it out there. The males who don’t have eating disorders love the race photos because they look so buff and muscly; the females – ED or otherwise – hate the photos for the same reason. I continue to race because for the most part it heals my soul. I’m good at it, and so it builds my self-esteem and creates an identity other than “anorexic”; in short, the risk-reward ratio is in the right place for me.

What I have learnt, however, is that disordered eating is rife among these professional women. They are not immune to the pressures; in fact, they feel it more than most.

Which disgusts me. Here you have 5 of the fastest, fittest, most incredible female athletes on the planet, all with bodies which would make any human proud. Their bodies are their livelihood, and to that end are serving them very well. Their self-confidence should be oozing; success is practically their middle name. And yet, they feel the need to lie about their weights, ashamed by the number on the scale.

What does that mean for the rest of us?

What message does that send?

Fast forward to scenario II, where I get this amazing opportunity to start my return to run training 3 months ahead of schedule following my foot surgery, thanks to the Alter G treadmill purchased my sports doc…..and yet I baulk. Frozen. Panic sets in. I know it means being weighed, and for someone who has just had 6 months off normal training, that is paralyzing.

But why should it be? I weigh 5kg more than the average of those 5 elite females put together – their real weight, not the one they put down on our team bio page. I am healthy, lean, fit and carry as much muscle as a good Ironman athlete should. Yes, I’m a few kgs up from my race weight, but that is OK too – because I am not race-fit right now. My body is as it should be right now, and I would like to be able to “own” that.

In the end, I guess you could call me a hypocrite. It upsets me that those women feel the need to lie about their weights, and it saddens me that that will send a very wrong message to young impressionable athletes coming through. It’s as if we are expected to achieve the impossible: to have muscle and minimal fat, and good bone density, and yet to weigh in at featherweight. Consider who is setting these expectations, and whether it is a sad modern extension of the female bullying epidemic, insisting we be perfect and able to do-it-all and yet so ruthlessly judging one another for how we all look/dress/work/live/parent…..the list goes on. I can tell you that my doctor, who is a male, didn’t give two hoots about my weight. And you rarely hear males bitching about their fellow mates, judging how they live their lives. Food for thought.

My plea is for female athletes to start “owning” their beautiful bodies. Be proud that you weigh a little more than your unfit skinny counterparts because you actually have muscle tone. Be proud of what your body can do, and how far it has come. For those of us who have climbed from the dark depths of an eating disorder, also be kind and forgiving – for your body has been through so much more than you will ever know, and every day it wakes ready to heal a little more and to help you to keep fighting the good fight.

Never forget that. Own what you are, and be proud. Starting a revolution starts with one tiny step, and you just never know who you’re inspiring by how you live your life.

insecurity blog

K xoxo

Recovered.

Recover.
Recovered, recovering, recovers.
v.tr.

1. To get back; regain.
2. To restore (oneself) to a normal state (‘He recovered himself after a slip on the ice’)
3. To compensate for (‘She recovered her losses’)
4. To procure (usable substances, such as metal) from unusable substances, such as ore or waste.
5. To bring under observation again.

v.intr.
1. To regain a normal or usual condition, as of health.
2. To receive a favourable judgement in a lawsuit.

tottoo and coffee NZ

Psychologist: “Exactly when do you think this magical line will be, where you will consider yourself to be “recovered”?
Me: Pause. “Well, I think I’ll be recovered when I manage to get married at a healthy weight, and not want to burn the photos or kill myself when I see them. And also when I finish an Ironman in one piece”.
Psychologist: laughs “Well we’ll see, I don’t think your body will be able to do any Ironmans in this lifetime after everything its been through”.

Challenge accepted.

Well it is almost 3 years to the day from when I married the man of my dreams, had finished said Ironman and celebrated by getting my recovery tattoo while on our honeymoon. A few weeks ago we went back to that magical place and celebrated the last 3 wonderful years, several more Ironmans and much laughter together.

neda-logo

I call that “winning”.

Rock on.

K xoxo