The disease is so cunning. It speaks in my own voice, knows my favorite songs and chuckles at my greatest fears. It is the most patient I have ever known; more patient than I ever envision being. It grabs onto exactly what it wants and nothing else. It hears the one insult and not the […]
Feels awkward. Embarrassing. Embellished. Self-centered. Stupid. Ego-centric. But when someone reaches out to me in thanks; when someone reaches out to me in prayer; when someone asks for help with their food or their body or their mind: I remember. I remember that it is only awkward because it isn’t normal yet to share our
Is gross. It feels gross, it looks gross, it is gross. Especially when you don’t even realize how encased you are with its veil. I went away a week ago to train with my coach in California. I had gone full tilt at work leading up to the plane ride out and commenced work as
Being sober from food is tricky. There are so many variations of what it looks like to be in recovery from an eating disorder, and those disorders are as varied as there are people. Two years ago on June 18, 2019, I celebrated 2 years free from bulimia and an abusive relationship with both my
As I mentioned in my previous blog, I enlisted some help for my A race in Tahoe. For those that do not know, I am an amateur obstacle course racer and aspiring endurance runner. I am still embracing the label “athlete”, because I go to great ends to do things right by my body and
It appears that I am on the other side of the pendulum, the down side. I know it is just for this moment, and it is most likely the brunt of over-socializing and running around for a few weeks that my being is finally saying “enough”, and I was prepared for this in theory. I
OY VEY, is pretty much all I can say about that, and perhaps a few F-bombs because if you know me, you know that my favorite word starts with F and ends with K and there isn’t a whole lot I am willing to do about that yet. Recently I’ve come up against personality conflicts
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Recently I’ve re-engaged in the practice of writing an inventory on paper every day. I used to do it at night as a reflective practice, then let it go and resorted back to my daily love affair with journaling. It’s easy for me to chart my thoughts, my feelings and my interpretation of said thoughts
We were with people last night that we hadn’t seen for a while, and after walking and talking to our destination, I half-jokingly said “well since all I’ve done is talk about myself, what’s going on with you!?” And her counterpart said “you have a blog. Anyone that has a blog loves to talk about
It was a spiritual experience. One I have been reflecting on for the last few days, tears brimming. Not because of the one hour of sleep or the 32 miles logged or the insane storm we had that produced quicksand mud or even running in the middle of the night in the dark. But because