You may have noticed there’s been a short but recent absence of writing on this platform. While I have been busy with work – coaching, publications, sponsors, networking, all the fun stuff… there has been other life stuff that I have been hesitant to share. I think more people in our society have problems than we know of. I’ve been an advocate of “mental health” for the last few years, yet I’ve been holding back myself. All along I really just needed to talk to someone, to be open and honest with myself and with the rest of the world… Regardless of what you may be struggling with – anxiety, depression, PTSD, loneliness, etc. – you are not alone.
I don’t want to be known as “that guy with an eating disorder…” (or hopefully “that guy that used to have an eating disorder.”) Everything is great from the outside looking in – I am fit and strong, I am financially on-my-feet, I have a decent cycling career and amazing team support, and I have an amazing family and friends who are always by my side. It all seems fine and dandy, from the outside looking in. Most of the time, it is.
But some days are not so good. Those days, I get depressed, and socially anxious. I get sad, nervous, frustrated with myself, I want to crawl up in a ball in my room with the door closed, the blinds drawn, and my headphones on. But I resist. And sometimes resistance comes at a cost.
Instead of turning to drugs or alcohol, I have routinely turned to food. I (try to) eat away my sorrows. I eat five, six, seven thousand calories at a time, and then lie on my bed because it hurts to move. I think the chocolate hitting my tongue will somehow heal the hole in my heart. And for a few minutes, it works. Taste is blissful, especially when it’s heroin – I mean, processed sugar. Does our brain thinks it’s the same thing?
It’s all in my head, all these horrible, stupid thoughts – I know that, it’s all made up, but knowing doesn’t make it any better. I’ve reached out, cautiously, to a few people who I thought might be able to help me through this. The first step was telling them: I have an eating disorder.
Things have been better since then, but I’m not going to sugarcoat it (Ha…), eating is still a struggle for me. I think about it too much and too intensely, but I am learning better ways and putting them into practice.
I’ve noticed that I binge-eat when I am bored and lonely. So I try to talk to people more.
I’ve noticed that I eat when I am really frickin’ hungry. So I try not to go to bed with a 1000-calorie deficit and wake up the next morning with a rumbling stomach and groggy mind.
I plan out my meals and training every single day. Because if I don’t, I doubt myself, I listen to my stomach – yes, the one that’s growling – and I eat more, and more, and more…
It’s part of cycling’s culture – not eating disorders themselves , but just about everything that causes them: calorie restriction, obsessive weight management, “carb-loading” as an excuse to binge eat, preoccupation with food, and body dysmorphia.
These are thoughts that I am still struggling to grasp, and I hope that in the future we, the sport of cycling, can change these tendencies. Because a sport as beautiful and powerful as cycling should not be paired with perpetual cycles (Ha…again) of self-hatred and comparing oneself to others.
I am not writing this for me. I am writing this for someone else. Someone who has dealt or is dealing with an eating disorder. Someone who has kept it a secret from their family and friends, even those closest to them. Someone who thinks about food all the time even though it drives them crazy. Someone who hates their body no matter how fat or skinny they are – I am writing this for you.
I hope I can help just one person – to remind them that they are not alone, to inspire them to talk to someone, to remind them that people care about them, and that it’s OK to reach out and tell someone you need help… If I can help just one person by writing this, then it will all be worth it.
***
Cover photo: Rouleur: “The Enemy Within” by Ben Greenwood & Joe Burt