Why I Work Out in My Sports Bra
Weird title? I know. If you CrossFit with me, you know exactly what I am talking about. I don't like working out with my shirt on, but for different reasons than you may think.
I've shared more than once that I had an eating disorder for a decent portion of my life. Gradually I am beginning to realize that eating disorders may be more of an epidemic than obesity. Don't quote me on that - I only speak from experience. I have more friends, male and female, than I would like to admit that can relate to my issues or greater. It lights a fire in my soul and infuriates me. I hate hate hate that people are living with hating themselves every day and feel that it is just something they have to live with. It's not. And you shouldn't.
I remember the day I graduated High School I was ecstatic because I suddenly felt this weight lifted off my shoulders. I no longer had to uphold the image that I had presented to my small group of peers for four years. While many of my friends were crying because it was over, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. It was finally over.
I ate anything and everything I wanted at the graduation parties I attended. That added up to a lot of food. I remember being extremely uncomfortable for about three days. This also added up to pounds. Pounds that I suddenly couldn't stop putting on.
Over the next four years of college I gradually gained nearly 30 pounds. This might not seem like a lot considering I started at 115 pounds, but to me I was morphing into a more and more unattractive version of a girl who used to be pretty every day. I couldn't decipher what was more miserable - upholding an image to please others, or slowly drifting away from that image in an uncontrollable manner.
All of college I starved myself and then I would binge. Sometimes the starving would win and I would lose a couple pounds, but most of the time the bingeing succeeded. I missed countless events, parties, dates, and opportunities because I was either scared I would eat and gain weight, or I felt physically ill from bingeing. It was a vicious cycle that I could never seem to get a hold on.
I thought I had tried. I went to therapy in high school. I felt my therapist was fat and couldn't help me (sorry for the honesty - but I'm talking in the eyes of a terrified-of-being-fat 16-year-old). I tried again in college. There were fliers in every bathroom stall at CU for this woman that could supposedly help me. She wasn't able to. So then I gave up.
My senior year I overloaded myself with too many credits and my research project and quit exercising. I put on a final 10 pounds in my last semester and graduated. I hated every single graduation picture that was taken. Literally. How sad is that? I had just finally accomplished a degree that I had been working toward for four years and couldn't find it in my heart to see more in those photographs than a girl who had a terrible relationship with herself and food.
It was then that I finally took a deep breath and decided I would do whatever it took to no longer treat myself this way. I started talking to people that I thought might understand. I had a friend who I knew for a fact struggled with an eating disorder for a long time and seemed to have found solace. So I confided in her. This is when I learned about the Eating Recovery Center. She told me that even though her mom forced her to go, they gave her some valuable skills that she was able to grasp and had greatly helped her overcome her problems. At this point, I was willing to try anything.
I remember walking into the Eating Recovery Center and being so embarrassed that I wasn't my 98 pound self seeking help for an eating disorder. Instead I was someone who I viewed as overweight and not a candidate as someone who needed help convincing them to eat. I clearly had that down. At least, this is what I thought.
Anyway, I didn't back down. I walked into the appointment and prayed that this woman had some sort of magical talent that would help her understand and fix me. And she did. To be honest, I can't even remember what exactly helped me. I know she gave me different worksheets to help identify my feelings emotionally and also my feelings of hunger on a scale from 1-10 (each number having a very descriptive sense of fullness). She also hit home on a few past upsets that I had been holding onto. Overall though, she gave me a starting point. Somehow she reset my view on food and allowed me to begin again. I felt like a total amateur trying to relearn my body's natural signals. I threw out my scale and I started listening. I also started yoga.
After three appointments with my therapist, I felt confident I could take the tools she had given me and run with them. My yoga practice helped me immensely as I dealt with trying to consciously accept myself for the first time. Yoga was and is filled with individuals just like myself. It turns out not wanting to be judged and wanting to be accepted by yourself and others is a very common desire.
Gradually, I did grow to accept myself. I became enveloped in yoga for the next 6 months or so, during which time I even learned how to teach yoga. Though I still have never used this skill, it may have been the most therapeutic time for me. It forced me to practice all different kinds of yoga nearly every day, sometimes multiple times a day. In these 6 months, my body didn't change significantly. I honestly don't know if I gained or lost weight. I only tried to love it.
Finally I found the courage to try something I had been wanting to try for two years. Behold: CrossFit. Sorry you're not surprised. Over the past almost two years now my mind and body have grown stronger than I ever thought possible. It's given me more confidence and pride than I ever imagined.
I had a conversation with one of the moms at CrossFit the other day. She for some reason felt comfortable telling me her struggles with food and body image. I shared my story in return and we arrived at this end point: do you or don't you feel pride in your body? Can you look in the mirror every day and feel beautiful? Yes, I think you can. If you refuse to see anything different. If you can forgive yourself for all the supposed mistakes you have made and hate you have imposed on yourself, you can begin to see yourself as beautiful.
I refuse to tell myself I am fat for one more day. I work out in a sports bra because, frankly, it's more comfortable. It's freaking hot in CrossFit. But also because it's symbolic for me. I am not going to not allow myself to take off my shirt because I feel fat. I won't let myself have this feeling. In fact, if I start to feel this way, it's even more incentive to take my shirt off and prove to myself that it only matters what I think of my body. If I believe my body is beautiful and functional and supportive, then I've won. That is all that matters - what I feel toward myself. I'm not saying everyone should work out with their shirt off to solve their body image issues. But if you want to, go for it! I don't care what you look like. And no one else should either.
In writing this I want people to know that having an eating disorder, or poor relationship with yourself and food, is not something you have to live with for your whole life or wait to outgrow. It's a real problem that there is real help for. Maybe a therapist isn't the answer for everyone, but as soon as you decide to no longer live the way you have allowed yourself to, you'll start finding answers. So long as you seek them. One of my favorite lessons from a really great teacher was,
"What's the number one reason people give money to the homeless?"
Because they ask.
Start seeking answers, and refuse to settle on living with something that stops you from living the best life you possibly can.
I've shared more than once that I had an eating disorder for a decent portion of my life. Gradually I am beginning to realize that eating disorders may be more of an epidemic than obesity. Don't quote me on that - I only speak from experience. I have more friends, male and female, than I would like to admit that can relate to my issues or greater. It lights a fire in my soul and infuriates me. I hate hate hate that people are living with hating themselves every day and feel that it is just something they have to live with. It's not. And you shouldn't.
I remember the day I graduated High School I was ecstatic because I suddenly felt this weight lifted off my shoulders. I no longer had to uphold the image that I had presented to my small group of peers for four years. While many of my friends were crying because it was over, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. It was finally over.
I ate anything and everything I wanted at the graduation parties I attended. That added up to a lot of food. I remember being extremely uncomfortable for about three days. This also added up to pounds. Pounds that I suddenly couldn't stop putting on.
Over the next four years of college I gradually gained nearly 30 pounds. This might not seem like a lot considering I started at 115 pounds, but to me I was morphing into a more and more unattractive version of a girl who used to be pretty every day. I couldn't decipher what was more miserable - upholding an image to please others, or slowly drifting away from that image in an uncontrollable manner.
All of college I starved myself and then I would binge. Sometimes the starving would win and I would lose a couple pounds, but most of the time the bingeing succeeded. I missed countless events, parties, dates, and opportunities because I was either scared I would eat and gain weight, or I felt physically ill from bingeing. It was a vicious cycle that I could never seem to get a hold on.
I thought I had tried. I went to therapy in high school. I felt my therapist was fat and couldn't help me (sorry for the honesty - but I'm talking in the eyes of a terrified-of-being-fat 16-year-old). I tried again in college. There were fliers in every bathroom stall at CU for this woman that could supposedly help me. She wasn't able to. So then I gave up.
My senior year I overloaded myself with too many credits and my research project and quit exercising. I put on a final 10 pounds in my last semester and graduated. I hated every single graduation picture that was taken. Literally. How sad is that? I had just finally accomplished a degree that I had been working toward for four years and couldn't find it in my heart to see more in those photographs than a girl who had a terrible relationship with herself and food.
It was then that I finally took a deep breath and decided I would do whatever it took to no longer treat myself this way. I started talking to people that I thought might understand. I had a friend who I knew for a fact struggled with an eating disorder for a long time and seemed to have found solace. So I confided in her. This is when I learned about the Eating Recovery Center. She told me that even though her mom forced her to go, they gave her some valuable skills that she was able to grasp and had greatly helped her overcome her problems. At this point, I was willing to try anything.
I remember walking into the Eating Recovery Center and being so embarrassed that I wasn't my 98 pound self seeking help for an eating disorder. Instead I was someone who I viewed as overweight and not a candidate as someone who needed help convincing them to eat. I clearly had that down. At least, this is what I thought.
Anyway, I didn't back down. I walked into the appointment and prayed that this woman had some sort of magical talent that would help her understand and fix me. And she did. To be honest, I can't even remember what exactly helped me. I know she gave me different worksheets to help identify my feelings emotionally and also my feelings of hunger on a scale from 1-10 (each number having a very descriptive sense of fullness). She also hit home on a few past upsets that I had been holding onto. Overall though, she gave me a starting point. Somehow she reset my view on food and allowed me to begin again. I felt like a total amateur trying to relearn my body's natural signals. I threw out my scale and I started listening. I also started yoga.
After three appointments with my therapist, I felt confident I could take the tools she had given me and run with them. My yoga practice helped me immensely as I dealt with trying to consciously accept myself for the first time. Yoga was and is filled with individuals just like myself. It turns out not wanting to be judged and wanting to be accepted by yourself and others is a very common desire.
Gradually, I did grow to accept myself. I became enveloped in yoga for the next 6 months or so, during which time I even learned how to teach yoga. Though I still have never used this skill, it may have been the most therapeutic time for me. It forced me to practice all different kinds of yoga nearly every day, sometimes multiple times a day. In these 6 months, my body didn't change significantly. I honestly don't know if I gained or lost weight. I only tried to love it.
Finally I found the courage to try something I had been wanting to try for two years. Behold: CrossFit. Sorry you're not surprised. Over the past almost two years now my mind and body have grown stronger than I ever thought possible. It's given me more confidence and pride than I ever imagined.
I had a conversation with one of the moms at CrossFit the other day. She for some reason felt comfortable telling me her struggles with food and body image. I shared my story in return and we arrived at this end point: do you or don't you feel pride in your body? Can you look in the mirror every day and feel beautiful? Yes, I think you can. If you refuse to see anything different. If you can forgive yourself for all the supposed mistakes you have made and hate you have imposed on yourself, you can begin to see yourself as beautiful.
I refuse to tell myself I am fat for one more day. I work out in a sports bra because, frankly, it's more comfortable. It's freaking hot in CrossFit. But also because it's symbolic for me. I am not going to not allow myself to take off my shirt because I feel fat. I won't let myself have this feeling. In fact, if I start to feel this way, it's even more incentive to take my shirt off and prove to myself that it only matters what I think of my body. If I believe my body is beautiful and functional and supportive, then I've won. That is all that matters - what I feel toward myself. I'm not saying everyone should work out with their shirt off to solve their body image issues. But if you want to, go for it! I don't care what you look like. And no one else should either.
In writing this I want people to know that having an eating disorder, or poor relationship with yourself and food, is not something you have to live with for your whole life or wait to outgrow. It's a real problem that there is real help for. Maybe a therapist isn't the answer for everyone, but as soon as you decide to no longer live the way you have allowed yourself to, you'll start finding answers. So long as you seek them. One of my favorite lessons from a really great teacher was,
"What's the number one reason people give money to the homeless?"
Because they ask.
Start seeking answers, and refuse to settle on living with something that stops you from living the best life you possibly can.
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