Mountain Motivation

There are a lot of titles I’m proud to hold. I’m a road runner, a trail runner, an ultra runner, a climber, a skier, a piano player, a burrito maker, a caesar drinker, a mountain lover, a big sister. I wear all of these different hats with pride and I am so thrilled to have so many communities of people and women to connect with, that share similar passions, challenges and goals.

I’m also someone that has overcome an eating disorder, an identity that I’ve always kept very private, but one that I feel more obligated than ever to share. My relationship with, and passion for running has been such an incredibly therapeutic tool for recovery, though it has required a lot of work in itself to establish a healthy relationship. The way I became an official “runner” was really a bi-product of a very unhealthy, unsustainable relationship with exercise and diet. I coped with a gnarly breakup in high school, a romance that felt like it had slipped through my fingers beyond my control, by taking complete control of my body. At 16, I became more and more dedicated to the gym and to maintaining “the perfect diet”, so that I quickly found myself completely addicted to exercise, taking zero rest days in an entire year and counting everything that went into my body. I continued to get more and more fit and decided to try my hand at a road race. An 8km in April 2006 lead to a half marathon that fall, which I ran in 1:39:51 with no formal training whatsoever. The scariest part, is that it looked pretty good on the outside, but I had boxed myself into a corner that would take me years to get out of.

I’m no longer embarrassed to admit that this is something I’ve struggled with, but it’s sure as hell still a little uncomfortable to talk about! My illness presented itself in various versions of anorexia and bulimia, with varying degrees of severity over the years that followed. I abandoned any goal of overcoming my anxiety and abuse of food and exercise, I simply did not believe that it was possible or that I could really, truly feel normal again. I instead focused on “managing” it to a level that I could still maintain a “normal” life, finish university, have a long-term boyfriend, work. I don’t want it to sound like I spent a huge chunk of my life miserable and suffering because I don’t for a second feel like I missed out, or haven’t been living an incredible life, but I certainly had this evil monkey that I couldn’t get off of my back. I directed all of my energy towards hiding it, rather than to really focus on getting better and getting to the root of the problem.

Though I was a runner born out of unfortunate circumstances, an urge to burn calories and lose weight, my love for it was and is true, and the drive behind my passion has completely evolved. I maintained my running to some degree through the worst points of my eating disorder (not something I would necessarily recommend). My times got slower, my fitness dwindled when I wasn’t taking care of my body properly,  but it was still always there for me, and it stayed with me as part of who I am, no matter where I live, what I’m doing, or who I’m with. It has taken me to incredible places and connected me with lifelong friends!

I don’t really know what or how it happened, but I think moving to the mountains set my eyes on a totally new prize. Somewhere along the way, I stopped running to be fit or for my body to look a certain way, and the mountains became my motivation. It became about the places I could see and travel, the amazing distances I could cover, the people I would meet along the way. I was drawn to the trails after I realized that there was simply not enough time to go on all the adventures I wanted to. I could not take extra days off work every weekend to do all of the backcountry trails that would normally take 4-5 days to hike, but there were psychopaths out there that could actually cover that distance in a day. Wouldn’t it be cool if I could be one of them!? I signed up for my first trail marathon, then a 50km, then a few more 50kms, and here I am signed up for a 100 mile race this summer, I have become an ultra runner and I have no idea what challenges I will chase after next!

It’s pretty freaking hard to be an ultra runner (to power hike up hundreds (or thousands) of metres of elevation, to spend 5, 10, 15 hours in motion on the trails) if you aren’t strong; you can’t just be fast, or be running on fumes. If you don’t eat properly, if you don’t fuel your body well, you will not be strong enough. Mountain and trail running is a sport that not only can you not succeed in if you don’t take care of your body, but you can’t really do it at all. You need to build yourself a strong-ass body, and your body becomes pretty damn good at telling you when it’s hungry, and shutting down when you don’t treat it properly. It is also a sport where you get what you put in, you earn your views and the moments you experience and I don’t think there’s been a time where I’ve said ” hmm, that wasn’t really worth it”. As I made my way further into this sport, this community, I started to set more and more goals for myself, a list of places to explore ever-expanding, and somehow all the other stuff just fell into place.

I’ve been healthy for a long time now, and though it’s something that I know I will always have to work at, I honestly believe that my relationship with running both on the roads and trails is a constructive, positive and healthy one. Yes, I have reintroduced some ambitious fitness goals to my life; but I take rest days with pleasure instead of guilt (at least two a week), I have no idea how many calories I burn, how many I eat, and I literally cannot remember the last time I weighed myself. I don’t feel like I have to treat myself anymore, as I no longer deprive myself in the first place – it’s quite funny how that works! I am training for many exciting goal races, and I am very excited to hit some times this year that will knock my personal bests out of the park. To be strong enough to do that and be living my life in what finally feels like a normal way means the world to me, especially since for so long, I did not believe it was possible.

I’m not an eating-disorder expert or doctor, but I believe that once you struggle with these issues, they are something that you will still have to work hard at for the rest of your life, much like someone working on maintaining their sobriety. Being able to plan adventures, participate in running groups and dedicate the amount of time I do to running is a routine, a habit that maintains my mental health and gives me something to work towards. Signing up for races keeps me focused on goals, whether they are small or large and it always steers me in some sort of direction. It is scary to think of situations where I may have more on my plate and not be able to dedicate as much time to my running goals; injury, when I have children one day, etc. But I am prepared to work for it!

Why did I feel an obligation to share this part of my life publicly? First, being open and honest about it is my commitment to continue to win over this illness every day, and it’s really not hard anymore. I’ve been kicking it’s ass for a long time now, and every day that I continue to do that motivates me more and more to never go back there. Second, I’ve become comfortable enough to open up to more and more people in my life, and I can’t believe how many women have, in turn, opened up and shared very similar struggles: I suspect there are a lot more people out there struggling in silence, probably hiding it for the same reasons I did. It inspires me to see other women being brave enough to admit that they too, have struggled, and that by sharing, they too are not ashamed. I want ANYONE reading this to know that I’m someone that you can talk to about these kinds of issues, whether it’s an eating disorder or an addiction.

I also want people to understand why I run, what it means to me, and to know that I.am.not.perfect. I feel strong enough in my recovery, that I want to be honest about the challenges I have faced and struggled with so that others won’t feel embarrassed, or like they can’t talk about it if they have dealt with the same thing. I also think that if I struggled with these issues, it could happen to anyone, and nobody should feel bad about it. I grew up with an amazingly supportive family, I did well in school, and I consider myself to have been an intelligent, logical young lady at the age of 16 when things took a wrong turn; yet I still fell into this trap. And finally, I want it to be known that is IS possible to feel “normal” again, even if that new normal involves becoming a running superdork and spending many hours a week running around in the woods with other running superdorks.

And ALSO, it is International Womens Day, it seems appropriate! This is a topic I’ve been sitting on for a while, so I figured now was a great time to share it. It’s a scary, raw subject to write about, and my main fear is that people will judge me, not understand, or look at me in a completely different light. Luckily, I don’t actually care enough to not write this, and if you’ve made it this far into the post, I’m guessing that you’re not one of those people.

I won my first race a few weeks ago, that was pretty cool. It was an out and back course and every single woman I saw running as I made my way back as the first lady shouted and congratulated me; the feeling of support and encouragement was overwhelming, even if it was a small race. If I can capture just a slice of that and give it back through writing this article, I’ll be ecstatic!