I was never a fit kid, I didn't want to sweat and if sweating was involved I was out. Around junior high, I started running. I enjoyed it, oddly enough, but only did it for leisure. I was not interested in track team or running because anyone was making me. I was pretty good at it, and found so much enjoyment in the freedom of a good run. Now, I wasn't running far and was mostly on the treadmill watching Oprah, but it was still freeing after a long day of school, drama, and the normal madness a teenager faces- those were such hard days, HA! The older I got, the more sense I tended to lose and fall prey to more of the enemy's lies. I had a terrible body image, I was a perfectionist, and I was not grounded enough in my faith when I ran off to college. I was ready to spread my wings and fly. I really got into running more then, I was in heaven on earth (Auburn) and loved taking runs around campus. I even had a jogging class as an elective my first semester (and I Aced it!). I didn't really understand balance, and was bound and determined to succeed in college. I stayed home most Sundays to study or rest and did not think anything of it, I was running more, eating less, and becoming a little more consumed with all of it each day. It didn't take long for this to become a full blown addiction, the freedom I had loved about running was now holding me as a prisoner- I had to run further and harder each day. The even more prominent bondage was food, I had to survive on a little less each day. It became disgusting and terrifying to me, I forgot what hunger was because my body was in complete starvation. Runs were hard, walking was a struggle. Everyone around me was terrified, but I was completely dead in this monster and naive as to anything that was happening to my body. After at least millions of prayers from just my parents, I woke up one day and realized something was wrong. I was weak, exhausted, and dying. I was anorexic. HOW did something like this happen to someone like ME. One word- sin. I allowed the enemy to completely take over, and it almost killed me. My heart was overworked and undernourished as was my entire body. Doctors were worried, my family was terrified, I was scared, but thankfully I was in the hands of the Great Physician. I saw counselors and nutritionists, some were absolutely amazing while others were not. It was a long, long road. I was completely forbidden to do anymore than walk to the bathroom all while feeding my body more food than it could handle, literally. I was so sick and weak, I knew it was nothing short of a miracle I even survived, but I just wanted my life back and I wanted to run again. The doctors gave me goals- when I hit a certain weight I could run again- no more than a mile, but I could run. The time from barely any weight to goal run again weight was a time of spiritual maturity unlike I had ever grown before. It was still SO hard. But, with nothing less than God's amazing grace, running became my saving grace. I, thanks to many prayers and complete divine intervention, reached this first goal weight and ran for the first time in a long time. It was a new freedom, freedom I had never experienced before , and it was glorious. I cried, I prayed, I was so thankful. I kept running and I kept aiming for a healthy, normal weight and body image. I ran and ran, and didn't stop running until I crossed the finish line of my first marathon- with a Boston qualifying time.
I don't remember the exact statistics, but in a clinical view of anorexia, no one survives without relapsing. Very few survive and gain freedom from this demon this side of heaven. I survived, I didn't relapse and I ran a marathon to celebrate recovery. Please please please don't think I had anything to do with any of this- it was God- 100% God. I didn't have the strength to stand, and a few months later I was running. I gained a new appreciation for my body, it works so hard and is put together so perfectly- it works so hard every second. Of course, I don't think everything is perfect and beautiful now, I've birthed two babies and I think doughnuts are a gift from the heavens, but it doesn't consume my mind. I may think "oh, that needs work" then I move on. I do have strong feelings about food and the food supply, only because I want to take care and contribute to the body and health I have been granted.
Since this battle, I run with a new appreciation for the strength and health to be able to run. It reminds me of how hopeless I am without the hope I have in Christ. It reminds me of what a gracious God we serve, I was lost in lies and sin and he waited for me with open arms. It reminds me of all I've been blessed with, more than once I was told I probably wouldn't have an easy time if I decided to have a family and I am pushing a double jogger full of baby girls more than I'm not when I go for runs. It reminds me to not be judgemental and to forgive, this can happen to anyone, we are only where we are by the grace of God. It reminds me to pray every second of every day for my babies and their hearts, we live in such a fallen world and I can't save them, but I know who can.
I don't know what this marathon will hold tomorrow, it may be great or it may be disastrous. But thanks be to God I'm here and able to run it!
And if you think Satan himself wasn't behind this, I've been kicked off two computers and had to reset a password twice just to get this shared :) To God be the glory!
I don't remember the exact statistics, but in a clinical view of anorexia, no one survives without relapsing. Very few survive and gain freedom from this demon this side of heaven. I survived, I didn't relapse and I ran a marathon to celebrate recovery. Please please please don't think I had anything to do with any of this- it was God- 100% God. I didn't have the strength to stand, and a few months later I was running. I gained a new appreciation for my body, it works so hard and is put together so perfectly- it works so hard every second. Of course, I don't think everything is perfect and beautiful now, I've birthed two babies and I think doughnuts are a gift from the heavens, but it doesn't consume my mind. I may think "oh, that needs work" then I move on. I do have strong feelings about food and the food supply, only because I want to take care and contribute to the body and health I have been granted.
Since this battle, I run with a new appreciation for the strength and health to be able to run. It reminds me of how hopeless I am without the hope I have in Christ. It reminds me of what a gracious God we serve, I was lost in lies and sin and he waited for me with open arms. It reminds me of all I've been blessed with, more than once I was told I probably wouldn't have an easy time if I decided to have a family and I am pushing a double jogger full of baby girls more than I'm not when I go for runs. It reminds me to not be judgemental and to forgive, this can happen to anyone, we are only where we are by the grace of God. It reminds me to pray every second of every day for my babies and their hearts, we live in such a fallen world and I can't save them, but I know who can.
I don't know what this marathon will hold tomorrow, it may be great or it may be disastrous. But thanks be to God I'm here and able to run it!
And if you think Satan himself wasn't behind this, I've been kicked off two computers and had to reset a password twice just to get this shared :) To God be the glory!
