What are you running from??

*TW: exercise, body dysmorphia, weight gain*

I’ve never had a good relationship with exercise. In my mind, exercising is what you would do to lose weight, or punish yourself for having a “bad” food day. I played softball growing up, and did other various athletic activities, but gym was always slightly traumatizing for me. 

 I wasn’t necessarily overweight as a kid, but I wasn’t skinny by any means. I was always squishy with a nice round butt. I was a medium girl.

Medium girls don’t get portrayed in the media often. Just kidding, they totally do; as fat girls. Examples include:

• Harper from Wizards of Waverly Place
• Bridget Jones from Bridget Jones’ Diary
• Andy from Devil Wears Prada
• Mindy Kaling from The Office

I could seriously write a whole book with all of these women. We’re taught that medium women are fat. That’s messed up.

So despite my body being very medium my whole life, I thought I was fat. I started to develop pretty severe body dysmorphia when I was in Jr. High. This continued through high school and college. Even at my lowest weight and highest activity level, I thought I was big. 

When I got married I started taking a birth control medication. It made me so so sick and made me gain weight; very quickly as a matter of fact. I was only 20 and I already thought I was fat. Adding weight gain to that equation wrecked me. My level of activity went down significantly, half because I felt so sick all the time, and half because it felt embarrassing to do those things if I was chubby. I got off hormonal birth control and started to feel better, but my confidence no longer existed. I started to grow out of pairs of pants, dresses, shirts. I felt awful. I finally got on antidepressants which helped a lot, but those also made me gain weight. I had a few people ask me if I was pregnant. Word of advice: unless someone tells you they are pregnant, DON’T ASK. 

I started to really focus on how I was going to heal my relationship with my body and with food. I followed some really helpful people on Instagram and started to really listen to my body. I was working full time and going to school full time, so I didn’t have a lot of time to exercise. My body needed a lot of sleep. So I listened. Listening to my body and giving it what it needed was hard. That was probably the most unhealthy time of my life because I was so sleep deprived and working out basically never. I went from weighing 145 lbs in 2019, to weighing 240 lbs in 2022.

Now, I could keep talking about weight gain and overcoming food trauma, but that isn’t the point of this blog post. So let’s skip forward.

During Ethan’s recovery, he spent a lot of time in bed. When he started walking again it was a big deal. Even small distances were extremely difficult for him. It was very emotionally taxing. I started to feel bad that I was always telling Ethan to do, what seemed to him, an impossible thing, while it was so easy for me. I felt like a hypocrite. 

I watched a lot of movies in the hospital while Ethan was sleeping, one of which was Brittany Runs a Marathon. I won’t describe the movie to you because I want to keep this post as short as possible, but after I watched it, I was feeling so inspired and motivated. Now this was all happening during the time of the Provo canyon marathon, and I had a terrible thought. If I wanted to stop being a hypocrite, I needed to do something that was physically and emotionally taxing, something that would push me mentally, something that felt impossible. 

“Maybe I should start running.” 

I felt repulsed by the idea. I have never been good at running, but also how embarrassing would that be for a chubby girl to run? And what if I set that goal and I never achieved it? People would just assume I couldn’t do it because I was too fat and lazy. 

I thought about it for a few weeks, and decided I really wanted to. I wanted to show Ethan that if he could do hard things, so could I. I downloaded a couch to 5k app on my phone and went on a couple non-committal runs. I didn’t even tell Ethan about it because it felt embarrassing. 

One day I was hanging out with my brother Jones and I said, “I’ve been running. I think I want to train for a 5k.” He said, “Oh, that’s cool.” The perfect response. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, so oddly enough those 3 words were really encouraging to me. 

I took a short break from my once a week runs because of everything happening with Ethan, switching hospitals and such. One night in the hospital in September, I started looking up 5k races. There was one on Thanksgiving, 9 weeks away. It was perfect, because the couch to 5k program is exactly 9 weeks long. I signed up immediately. I told Ethan about it, and texted my family to let them know I was doing it and if they wanted to join me they could. 

I started running everyday because I was feeling so motivated and good. The first runs were hard, my lungs were on fire. My shins started to feel sore, so I bought a new pair of running shoes. On my sixth run my legs were killing me, but I was determined to push through. I finished the run and started my cool down walk, but I could hardly move. I knew I had pushed too hard. I wobbled home. My 5 minute walk home became a 30 minute walk home. I couldn’t have Ethan pick me up because he couldn’t drive yet. I got home, but while I was gone, Ethan had squatted to pick something up and got stuck on the floor. I helped him up, and nearly passed out because the pain was so intense. I was seeing black spots in my vision. I laid on the floor, elevated my feet, and then sobbed. The pain was so intense I thought for sure that I had stress fractured both of my legs. Poor Ethan hobbled to the fridge and got me bags of frozen fruit while I screamed. I had him call my dad because I thought I was going to pass out, and someone needed to take care of him. 

Luckily, after lots of ice packs and ibuprofen, the feeling passed. The next few weeks of training were hard, just because I was now trying to work around the shin splints. I started cross training at the gym on the days I wasn’t running so I could improve the pain and grow stronger.

The runs got easier, but they were never easy. It is physically challenging, but much more mentally challenging for me to run. It was honestly wild to be on a run and think, “This sucks, I should stop,” and then think, “No, I can do it.” And I could. Our bodies are a lot more capable than we give them credit for.

As I continued to run, I felt like I could listen to my body a lot easier. It was more clear about what it wanted, and I was more willing to give it those things because I wasn’t running to lose weight or punish myself; I was doing it to show Ethan that I could do hard things with him, and that I was proud of all the progress he made. 

I ran the 5k. I beat my previous running time. Ethan was there, standing up, without a walker or wheelchair, watching me cross the finish line. It was the best ever to see him there. 

I am not fast. My current mile time is an average of 13 minutes and 30 seconds, depending on the day. I signed up for a 10k in April, so I’m excited to see the improvements I make while I train for that. My relationship with my body and with food were not magically healed, but they have had improvements. Through this whole experience, running and training 6 days a week, 9 weeks in a row, I have not lost a single pound. And for the first time in my whole life, that hasn’t bothered me. I don’t care what I weigh, because I know I can do hard things, and I know Ethan can too. 

It would be cool to run a marathon one day, but I’m not dead set on it. I just want to continue to listen to my body and do what makes me happy. If I never run again, I know it’s not because I’m fat or lazy, it’s because I choose not to. 

I am so grateful to have a healthy body that has allowed me to learn and grow and be strong, emotionally and physically. It has gotten me through the best and hardest moments of my life.

I hope I never take it for granted again.