Tag Archives: Eating Disorders


This past weekend was the Illinois Marathon, an event that I used to run every year.  It was a tradition to do the 5k, 10k, or half-marathon with one of my best friends.  We would train and encourage each other from a distance (we live 150 miles apart), eagerly anticipating the uninterrupted “girl time” that we would get to share while running together on race day.  It was always a fun race weekend and a family affair, but I haven’t run it in 3 years…

I chose to quit due to an eating/body image disorder and a wrecked thyroid.  Running had taken a front seat to everything else in my life, and it became a trigger for binge eating and body shaming.  I was stuck in a bizarre dance with several elements:  the euphoria of accomplishment; “rewarding” myself with sugar binges after long training runs; appeasing the massive running-induced appetite increase with indulgent foods; intense regret from binging on said foods; starvation, obsession, and over-exercising to regain “control” of my body; relief when the number on the scale came back down…and then the crazy cycle would start over again.

I needed to face the reality that was driving my behaviors.  My body image and insane exercise regime had become an idol in my life, which was a difficult thing to admit.  I didn’t want it to be true!  How could this have happened?  I tried to get off of the crazy train many times, but the anxiety of giving up “control” had me quickly jumping back on board.  I was stuck, and it was time to honestly answer some questions.  Did I really want to be free?  I mean, really?  Was I truly ready for radical “heart” surgery, and willing to do whatever it took to be free?

In order to reset my life, it would mean giving up the things that I was clinging to – for as long as it took, maybe even forever.  It was time to stop trying to white-knuckle my way through the mental battle.  I didn’t have the strength for it anymore.  I decided to let God in on my secret…I needed rescuing.

It didn’t happen overnight, but freedom came after I surrendered control.  There was something different this time. I traded my weakness for God’s strength, and before the fight began, I boldly claimed victory because it had already been won for me.  I laid down the many things that were tripping me up, like running, and trusted that there would be something far better waiting for me when the radical work in me was finished.

Seeing all of my friends’ Facebook race posts this past weekend caused me to pause and consider how I’m feeling 3 years later.  What have I learned, and will I ever run again?

The enemy had distorted a perfectly good thing, like running, in order to trap me.  The experience rendered me totally ineffective for living out God’s purpose for my life.  Fool me once, shame on you…fool me twice…well, you know the rest.

But did you know that God is in the business of restoring?  All throughout the Bible, there are promises and stories of restoration.

1 Peter 5:10 – And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.

God has restored my health and given me balance.  If I run again someday, I must do it in light of all that I have learned.  Otherwise, it will make a mockery of what God did for me in that season of radical heart surgery.  I have scars, but they are no longer wounds. They serve as reminders, but they don’t hinder me.

I truly miss running with my friend.  I miss the thrill of the accomplishment.  I miss the girl time!

Running will look very different for me in the future.  My focus will be on the freedom I have in Christ, and honoring my body as His temple.  This allows me to embrace what was restored; my peace, joy, and freedom…as well as my passion for fitness.

Do you have something that needs to be restored in your life?

My words of encouragement are this: be brave enough to let God do radical heart surgery on you.  If there is something in your life that needs to go, don’t be afraid to let it go.  Something better will be returned to you!


Your Body Isn’t the Enemy

Have you ever been frustrated with your body for not cooperating with your most disciplined attempts to get into shape? Do you feel like you are fighting an uphill battle with your body?

Back in my “obsessed” days, I desperately wanted a runner’s physique.  I assumed that if I ran A LOT, I would naturally acquire it.  It was all I could think about, and I punished my body for years in an attempt to get there.

On one particular trip to my running store to buy new shoes, the salesperson made a remark about my “strong muscular legs” and how I was a “body-builder type.”  All I heard in that moment was that I did not have the coveted runner’s physique that I had been beating myself up to achieve.  Instant deflation.  I was a runner, darnit!  What did he say about my legs?  Why can’t my legs be small runner’s twigs?  That’s it!  I’m not buying anything from this guy…wait, those shoes are SUPER CUTE and comfy…must have them!

I was stuck in a rut of focusing on the negative –what I wasn’t– instead of embracing the positive: what I could do, my strengths and gifts, and my uniqueness.  I interpreted the salesperson’s casual compliment as a value statement, and it didn’t align with what I valued at that time in my life (a certain look).

Months later, as I worked through my body image issues, I often reflected on this event. It had been flagged in my psyche as a game-changer because it forced me to examine my priorities and self-image. It was time to unpack this.

Here is what I had to understand in order to move forward:

Whether we like it or not, genetics dictates how our bodies respond to exercise. We can help it along with a clean diet and the best blend of cardio and strength training for our unique metabolism, but the rest is up to Mother Nature. My genetics make it easy to build muscle, but no matter how hard I try, I will never be a thin runner-gazelle-type.

I was trying to override my unique design in order to attain “perfection,” and I saw my body as the obstacle, rather than an instrument, to my “success.” I treated it as the enemy, and at times actually hated my body for not delivering the results that I desperately wanted.

Ready to make a change, I intentionally chose to work with my body rather than against it. I began to respect it as a gift and left no room for feelings of self-hatred. I tapped into my genetics by lifting weights more often, focusing on building overall strength, and challenging myself with balance exercises – an entirely different level of strength training. This refreshing new mindset made exercise more fun and celebratory, rather than a punishment. I was experiencing success in a brand-new way!

I wasn’t finished yet. I had to address my habit of comparing myself to others, which resulted in my unrealistic body image expectations. Many of us are guilty of comparison, and we tend to go a step further by measuring our worst, most hidden faults against the polished and edited triumphs that others put forward. This is never helpful, but I regularly fell into this trap.

This story of comparison in the Bible gave me much-needed perspective. In John 21: 20-22, there is a conversation between the resurrected Jesus and Peter: Jesus said, (I’m paraphrasing) “Peter, you are going to be crucified one day, but follow me.” Peter responded, “Well, what will happen to John?”  Jesus said, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you?  You follow me!”

Peter was comparing himself to John, and the dose of truth was that Peter’s purpose was independent of John’s.  Unique.  God-given.  Jesus told Peter not to lose sight of his own unique story and to stay the course.  Essentially, he needed to stop comparing his life path to John’s and get busy working on his own journey.

Are we any different? I wasn’t. I was looking at others around me, comparing their talents, abilities, success, “perfection” in appearance, and it kept me from embracing my God-given gifts and His plan for my life. Comparison had hindered me more than I realized. This is what I learned: The more time we spend comparing ourselves to others or focusing on what we aren’t, the less energy we have to embrace our unique strengths and purpose in life.

In the end, I realized that my body was never the enemy…it was actually comparison!  Time-wasting, life-distracting, joy-stealing comparison.

Is this you? What can you do today to shift your focus off of others and onto your own unique strengths and purpose?

Put the Scale in its Place!

dsc08399The only time I have a good relationship with the scale is when I don’t get on it…or when it’s broken…or “lost.”  (I’ve gone so far as to have my husband hide it from me.)  Inevitably, I find that stupid scale again and the dance begins, especially when I know that I’ll be going to the doctor in the near future.  Why can’t doctor’s offices measure us another way, perhaps assessing our desire instead?

The assessment could go something like this.  You say:  I really want to have a certain number on the scale.

The scale readout says:  That’s the correct answer.  It’s yours!  You are now the proud owner of ‘X’ pounds!

I digress a bit.  Seriously, how do we deal with this?  We can’t stop going to the doctor.

I suppose we could choose not to look at the number on the scale.  I found myself in an Urgent Care Clinic on my 40th birthday and I told the nurse, “Hey, it’s my 40th birthday, so I really don’t want to know what the number is.  I’m not about to let it ruin my Fabulous-at-40-Vibe.”  While that tactic was just fine in the moment, making a regular habit of not looking at the number still gave the scale some degree of power over me.

It’s time to put the scale in its place, which requires a deliberate mental shift.

Here’s the thing:  the number on the scale is merely a data point, amidst many other data points that comprise a picture of our health.  We tend to put way too much emphasis on this ONE point, and we lose sight of the bigger picture, sometimes at the expense of other more important numbers.  Other data that make up our health pictures include:  waist circumference, body composition, LDL cholesterol, HDL cholesterol, triglycerides, blood sugar A1C, inflammatory markers, strength, endurance, flexibility, balance, and just plain HOW WE FEEL.  Truly, these data points give us far more information than the number on a scale.  In my own life, there have been times when I was “overweight” or at my “ideal weight” and was quite unhealthy in both scenarios.  Obsessing about a number is flat-out dangerous.

The National Weight Control Registry (NWCR) studies people who have lost 30+ pounds and have kept it off for more than a year.  They have found that participants who weigh themselves daily are the most successful at keeping the weight off.  I’ve been a participant in NWCR’s database for many years; I lost 55 pounds more than a decade ago.  Did weighing daily help me keep the weight off?  Sure.  But it came with a hefty price:  a very unhealthy relationship with the scale, food, and exercise.  Very unhealthy.  Yes I weighed every day, not at the suggestion of NWCR (they make no recommendations to their participants), but due to my own desperate need for control and an obsession to reach some arbitrary “ideal” weight.  That number on the scale dictated my mood for the day, my sense of security and control, and my self-worth.  It even affected my personal relationships, AND my health took a nose dive.  That is a stiff price to pay just to be a certain weight or size!  I came out of the experience just plain angry that a small piece of equipment had such power over me.

Let me illustrate something that I hope will forever change your relationship with the scale.  Below are two pictures of me at different times in my life, but the number on the scale was nearly the same.  In the first one, I’m holding one of my nephews who is now 17 years old.  I weighed 145 pounds and was a size 12.  The second picture is me today, at 142 pounds, and a size 4-6.


This difference is explained by body composition.  Muscle weighs more than fat, but takes up less space.  (I’m a big fan of lifting heavy things, but I’ll save that for another post.)  Muscle mass also makes the traditional BMI (Body Mass Index) irrelevant, because BMI does not account for lean mass.  It only accounts for total weight.  Therefore, I can’t put much stock in the recommended weight range for my height.  The number on the scale tells us very little about what’s going on in our bodies!

So, the next time you step on that blasted scale (because let’s face it, you probably still will, but hopefully with a deliberate mental shift), remember this:  it’s just a number that tells you almost nothing, one tiny piece among many bigger pieces of the puzzle.  At the end of your life, there is no medal for achieving or maintaining a certain weight.  Consider spending more time and effort on the other data points mentioned earlier.  You will be in a much healthier place, and able to live life to its fullest.

Why should such an insignificant number have so much power over us?

Let’s put the scale where it belongs.

Hope is a 4-Letter Word

hopeRecently, I saw a documentary film that followed women with eating disorders who were in an inpatient treatment facility.  It deeply impacted me.  I was stunned to discover that 1 in 7 women with anorexia will actually die from the illness.

As I watched these women wrestle with their issues, I could relate on a less intense level:  the anxiety over eating certain foods, the compulsion to “undo” whatever was eaten, viewing their body as the enemy, the paradoxical (though false) comfort and security that they felt when they were entrenched in their rituals, the addiction to the cycle and its emotions, the desperate desire to be free, and the fear of giving up control.  It became apparent to me that I was rescued LONG before my eating disorder was able to get such a strong hold on me.

When I finished watching the film, my heart cried out to God in a prayer of thanksgiving for my rescue, yet I was utterly devastated for these women.  They had been pushed beyond their tipping points.  Some didn’t even want to be there, didn’t want to get better.  There were other women who desperately wanted to get better, while others systematically sabotaged their own success time and time again.  What a sad existence.  This might have been me.  I am grateful that I didn’t get to a point where I was in the dance of extremes between wanting to recover and sabotaging my recovery.  I believe that I stopped short of this stage because I still had a working knowledge that I was a child of God, and still somewhere deep down I had a love and respect for my body.  Though it was hidden under the surface, I still wanted to be a good steward of God’s temple:  my body.  That wasn’t lost…yet.  There was still a glimmer of hope for me.

What breaks my heart is that these women had no hope.  At the end of the film, none of them had found recovery, and one woman died.  Did she know Christ?  He sure wasn’t included in the womens’ treatment plans.  My sorrow gave way to anger when I saw that these women were given no tangible hope.  They had nothing to stand on apart from their own strength which, I can say from experience, is guaranteed to fail.  I would still be in bondage today and on the path to the fates of the women in this documentary if it weren’t for my faith.

Is there something in your life that you have tried to overcome on your own?  Maybe it’s worry, envy, anger, or selfishness.  Or perhaps you struggle with insecurity, depression, anxiety, or addiction.  No matter what “stuff” you have—and everyone has some—in Jesus we can overcome it all.

One of my favorite verses of the Bible is John 16:33; Jesus says:  In this world you will have tribulation.  But take heart; I have overcome the world.  Because I have put my faith in Jesus, I share in this victory!  Another verse, 1 John 5:4-5, was a lifeline for me:  For everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world.  And this is the victory that has overcome the world –our faith.  Who is it that overcomes the world except the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?  The world, and every difficult thing that comes with it, CAN be overcome.  Wow, I needed that kind of hope in my darkest, bleakest moments.  And perhaps you need it today.

Many things in this world promise us healing and hope, but I have found that HOPE is merely a 4-letter word, unless you have Jesus.

The Pants

jeans-hipster-urban-will-milneI used to loathe shopping for clothes, especially pants.  When I was overweight, a trip to the department store’s dressing room was an event that moved me to tears and ended with a vow to never shop for clothes again.  Surely sweat pants will come back in fashion soon!  Nothing fit properly, or if something fit, it didn’t look flattering.  How could all 7 of these pairs of jeans NOT fit?  What is WRONG with fashion these days?!  The experience would culminate in my own personal walk of shame as I exited the dressing room area, handing the attendant ALL of the clothes that I had taken back with me, having to say, “None of these work for me.”  Even more humiliating: being asked by the attendant, “Did any of these work for you?”  With head hung low and avoiding eye contact, I could barely contain my disgust while uttering the word ‘no.’

In stark contrast was my experience after losing nearly 60 pounds.  Shopping was a blast! Everything fit and looked great, with the exception of the occasional article that wasn’t true to size or was cut differently.  I was faced with a slightly different issue: whittle down this pile of clothing into what I need and what I can afford.  I must admit that I really liked this new experience; it was euphoric.  See that cute pair of pants?  Let’s try it on!  They look fantastic!  Put them in the “keep” pile!  Next pair, please!

Then, I got greedy, but not in the way one would think.  It wasn’t about buying more clothes.  Rather, it was about pushing the size envelope.  How low could I go?  It was intoxicating for this once size 16-18 gal to find herself in size 4s and the occasional extra small.  Even more satisfying was the feeling of loose size 4 pants or jeans.  At some point there was a transfer of this being “just a size” to this being my identity, security, and measure of worth.  If I could just stay in this “loose 4 state,” life would be grand.  I could feel attractive, peaceful, worthy, useful, and smart.

Unfortunately, this mind game with clothes would be impossible to continue without some major sacrifice to my health.  I had conveniently ignored the fact that I had achieved this “smallest-size-ever euphoria” through starvation and over-exercising.  The only way that I could stay in that size (and subsequently keep my security, my value and my peace) was to eat less than 1000 calories/day, run at least 25 miles/week, and have several long weight-lifting sessions per week, leaving no room for being sick.  I further abused my body by intense exercise during illness.  Taking a day off was never an option; maintaining my smallest size and my sanity depended on it.

There was a point when those smallest-size-ever pants began to haunt me.  I had grown to really love this one particular pair of khakis.  While wearing them, I felt slim and attractive and in control of my body.  But, there were days when they didn’t fit right, or started to get too tight in the thighs.  What is going on?  Have I eaten any bad foods lately?  Is it “that” time of the month?  Where is my calendar?!  As much as I was attached to these pants, I also felt betrayed by them.  They had become my new nemesis, and had replaced the scale.   I recognized those old familiar feelings, just like when I would step on the scale and the number wasn’t what it “should” have been (OR, complete security in discovering that the number was just what I wanted).  The feelings had merely transferred to a new source.  I had the same battle going on within me to fit into these pants as I did to see a certain number on the scale.  Those moments alone in my walk-in closet, standing in front of the mirror, sucking in my stomach, and doing deep squats in those pants were a ritual for me.  It had so much power over my day, my emotions, and my self-worth.  (As an aside, I have to believe that I’m not the only one who does deep squats in my pants after they’ve been washed in hopes to loosen them up a bit!)

Now, fast-forward through my realization that I had a disorder and my “comin’ to Jesus” experience that set me on the path to recovery.  I had successfully removed the scale from my life, and found balance in eating and exercise.  By applying God’s truths about my body and its physiology, I was finally healing my body from the inside out.  I had found a respect for my body and was committed to being a good steward of the only body I would ever have this side of heaven.  I was the healthiest that I had been in a very long time, yet the size demon was still lurking.

I had to come to terms with the fact that some of my pants, including my precious size 4s, really did not fit.  All of my constructs about my identity in this worldly “size” now must be challenged. Where should my identity lie?  How does any of my worth and security and peace change if I am a size bigger?  Why am I so afraid to let go of this size?  Doesn’t it make sense that the only way that I could maintain this size was by being unhealthy; and now that I am healthy the size might no longer fit?  I was so afraid to let go of those pants, but they needed to go.  I had to honestly answer these questions before I could let go.

The bottom line is that I was believing lies about my worth and these pants were tied to my identity in a very wrong way.  Sadly, I had been placing my personal value in these khaki pants instead of the hands of my creator.  It may sound odd, but I believe that these pants had become an idol in my life.  Psalm 115 talks about how men can put their faith in idols that can’t speak, see, hear, smell, or feel, instead of God.  That is precisely what I had done.  There are many things in this world that compete with God for our attention and our allegiance.  The awesome truth is that He has done, and continues to do, infinitely more for us than the things of this world that quietly become our “idols.”  I knew that these pants were doing me no favors.  It was time to put my trust in the One who gives me my true worth, and it was time to start seeing myself as God sees me.  I am:  loved, gifted, forgiven, called, chosen, accepted, secure, significant, created with a purpose, and empowered.  A silly pair of pants can’t promise me any of these things.

So did I get rid of the pants?  You bet I did!  I had to replace this fickle, fragile, and false idol with the stable, strong, and sure promises of God.