5 AM wake-up calls never come easy, especially on a Monday morning. I had a long day ahead, so I wanted to get my workout early. I snoozed my alarm before rolling out of bed to head to a 5:45 cycling class.
Walking into the gym, I got the last cycling pass- woohoo my lucky day. I quickly found the last bike available and began to set up, living in my own little world. I am wedged between the mirror on my left and another younger girl on my right. As I look to my right, my eyes nearly well-up. It was another mirror, of myself, three years ago. Having Anorexia myself, I am pretty darn good at being able to catch one. It’s not that hard. Sinew-y arms and legs, sunken in face. It was all the things I was.
As class starts, I watch as she pushes so incredibly hard to keep those pedals going, knowing how exhausted her little body is. All I wanted was to take her outside the room, hug her, and tell her I can help. I know how that would have gone. Exactly how it would have gone with me if someone did that to me years ago. Complete denial.
As unfortunate as it was to see her, something came over me for the first time in forever if not ever. I was proud of my body. I was proud of the extra fat (necessary for survival) on my thighs. I wasn’t self-conscious about the “back fat” from my sports bra or a little lump on my waist where my shorts hit. I watched in the mirror as my legs pushed me through the class. I NEED that meat for my body to be able to even handle the class. My body is actually healthy. And I actually, loved my body.
I can’t say it lasted long, but seeing how far I’ve come only makes me feel better. I don’t think it was just a coincidence in light of National Eating Disorders Awareness Week. God had a plan.
P.S. Look for another post this week about recovery during this exciting week, so spread the awareness of eating disorders!