My Fitness: Undereating & Overeating

Everyone’s fitness journey is unique. Some people were born to run. Others love the gym. And then there’s me.  Sure, I was active as a child – my parents were strict and we weren’t allowed to watch a lot of TV or play many video games.  I spent most of my time reading and riding my bike up and down the street.  But I can’t really say that I loved fitness.

I’ve always been fortunate to have a very high metabolism. I never really had to worry about my weight or what my body looked like, and I never watched what I ate. That all changed my senior year of college.  During an internship in Dallas, I gained ten pounds and noticed my pants were pretty snug. My girlfriends and I decided that it was time to get in shape.  We made a pact to work out/train together when we got back on campus, and we did.  We would run the Bear Trail and come up with sculpting routines for our upper and lower bodies, and we also tried to eat a healthier, lower calorie diet.  I was so obsessed with the diet part, and I began tracking exactly what I ate and eating less and less while working out harder and longer. 

By the time I graduated from college that fall, I weighed around 90 pounds.  Not nearly enough for my 5’6” frame.  By God’s grace, I moved in with my parents and could no longer “hide” my disturbing eating habits and significant weight loss.  Unfortunately, instead of turning to my Creator and resting in Him, I turned to food for comfort.  I began eating…. and eating… and eating. I no longer had control over food – it had control over me.  I gained approximately 70 pounds over the next four months.

The turning point came the next fall.  I was so ashamed of my weight and my appearance and had been spending quite a bit of time with my parents.  My 6-foot-tall, athletic, lean father walked into the media room at their house one evening and mentioned that he had lost a few pounds and I realized (to my horror) that we weighed the same amount.  The following week, we went on vacation to my grandparents’ house. At their house, I no longer had access to the volumes of food to which I had been turning (i.e. six bagels for breakfast, a large pizza for lunch, and two value meals plus ice cream for dinner). 

It was at my grandparents’ house and with the help of a wonderful Christian counselor that I began to re-learn what “healthy” actually meant.  And the journey hasn’t been easy.  There are times that I am much more committed to healthy eating and fitness and other seasons where I have put those things on the back burner for my career or a relationship or because I just didn’t feel like it.  I have never turned back to under-eating, but I do still struggle occasionally with finding comfort or satisfaction in rich and unhealthy foods.

So why do I tell you all of this?  For me, that part of my life is a vivid reminder of why I can’t do it on my own.  It was a cry for help from a girl who wanted so desperately to control everything around her, and then a girl who longed for love and sought it through a relationship with food.  I have learned that the only thing in this life that truly satisfies is an authentic relationship with the God of the Universe.   A relationship where I spend time reading His word (the Bible) each morning and in prayer and meditation.  A relationship where I put Him first, and where I turn to Him when I am afraid or lonely or sad, and where I run to him during the good times to share my joy and excitement and praise.  If you have questions or want to know more about this, I’d love to share more of my story with you.  You can also find my testimony under the “My Faith” section of this blog.