Confidante

I have a dear friend, Sandy, who has become enormously important to my running/eating habits in the last 4-5 months.  Sandy and I have only known each other for a few years.  She was one of the first true friends I made up North, and I believe I latched onto her in part because she was from Virginia.  Hallelujah, a fellow Southerner!

While she moved back to Virginia, thanks to the glories of internet communication and a couple excellent visits, we've remained close.

Sandy and I share a common struggle in that weight/food have always played a large role in our self-perception and self-acceptance.  We've both lost large amounts of weight in the last few years and we both found running to be both a supportive element of that weight loss and an important boost to our occasionally flagging sense of self-worth. We're both goal-oriented gals and we thrive with a hurdle before us, conquering problems and pursuing specific accomplishments just lights a fire that keeps us going when the going gets a bit annoying. Sandy rooted for me from afar as I trained for and ran my first marathon and I committed to one day returning the favor.

A few months ago Sandy and I decided we'd correspond several times a week (pretty much all work week) and detail how we're doing food and exercise-wise.  Being accountable to someone is a powerful tool and just the threat of having to type out, "I ate 473 Cheez-Its," is enough of a bummer to make me second guess purchasing those little spawns of Satan. Neither of us was too married to a specific food plan, although we kept to Weight Watchers points for awhile. Our pursuit was always a pursuit of balanced eating, runner-supportive eating, and understanding why it is that we occasionally break down and lose control over what we eat. We were striving for the ability to recognize why we crumbled and what mental black line separated the good days from the bad. 

It isn't an exercise I imagine everyone understands.  While Sandy hasn't struggled with an eating disorder the way I have, she has struggled with her body, and so she recognizes the pain that sometimes accompanies Food, and how, for some people (I'm speaking of myself now) it can feel less like comfort and fuel and more like kryptonite. It's like a war, really, with battle scars and flashbacks and crippling anxiety.  And Sandy is one of the handful of people on this planet who I can say, "I really wanted to eat the hamburger but I was afraid I'd have a panic attack" to and know she 1) doesn't think I'm crazy and 2) knows that, in the end, I will always be okay.

I fight less with Food (it deserves a capital letter today) when I'm happy with how my body works.  And I'm happy about my body when I'm pursuing physical goals.  I no longer need to be a size 4.  A size 8 is a perfectly healthy, legit size for a woman. But I do need to feel that I'm getting stronger, that the Food I eat is purposeful and destined for action.  I enjoy Food when I can articulate why I'm eating it and I'm happy with that reasoning. Eating for fuel, because I'm running 10 miles tomorrow, because I lifted weights today, because I'm happy and want to celebrate a special occasion, because the mango is on sale and it's my favorite, because the new recipe for sausage and kale soup is so perfect, because my boyfriend's taking me out to dinner and strawberry shortcake is his favorite...these are all reasons my heart supports and embraces.  Food can be a lovely component in such instances. But if I'm eating only because I'm bored or tired or lonely, that's when Food stops being a component of my day and instead begins to consume it.  That's when the good days turn bad. 

I say all this because Sandy has been a large part of helping me understand that about myself.  It's a struggle I have been exhausted by for over half my life and it's a struggle I expect to continue for as long as I live. It will never be easy, and the panic attacks will still happen, and the crushing anxiety over the simplest of menu decisions, but I'm better equipped now than I have ever been.  And Sandy is a large part of that new-found comfort and courage.

While I've been growing and understanding myself in that way, tripping over emotional/mental hurdles from time to time, waiting for Sandy to dust me off and send me a cyber hug, Sandy has been struggling with a wholly physical hurdle.  In her pursuit of her first marathon, Sandy was injured.  She'd broken the 18 mile mark in her training and her IT band, and subsequently her knee, gave out on her.  It's a heartache and frustration I have never suffered from and I have struggled to know how best to support her as she watched her marathon training dream get sidelined in the interest of simply walking without shooting pain.

After surgery a couple weeks ago, Sandy is now on the mend and thinking of running and racing again.  She has started a blog and as she's a groovy little writer, I highly recommend you track her journey of recovery and, ultimately, victory at a finish line sometime this year. Sandy's blog is a lot like Sandy, realistic as to the likelihood of struggles and pain and also gloriously optimistic about her ability to conquer the hills before her.

Sandy has been more than a confidante to me, she has been a rock on the days Food feels like it owns me, and I have tried to be the same support to her as she has struggled to maintain her optimism throughout her current struggle.  She is a blessing to me; I thank God for her. And this is merely a blogpost thank you to Sandy, my marathon buddy and my sender of emails, and an internet ether-based "you can do it!" as she begins her recovery.

Rock on!