It would be fair to say that sport has an eating disorder problem…

Trigger Warning: Discussion of eating disorders and mental health

It would be fair to say that sport has an eating disorder problem. 

Unfortunately, sport as a whole is stuck right where myself and millions of others have all been before. That place is denial. 

That’s quite a crappy place to be; you’re surrounded by people who care, people who want the best for you, people who can see a significantly better future for you that’s full of things you don’t even know you want. Those people feel like they’re talking to a brick wall at times, and inevitably at some point, feel intense anger and confusion over why their love and care is not getting through. But they know that they can’t shame a sufferer into recovery - that has to come from within, from an empowered spirit.

Just over a year ago, I could count on my hands the number of people with whom I’d ever discussed having an eating disorder. Then, one day, I penned my experience for a large number of people to read, hoping it would make some kind of impact. Of course, I did not expect an overnight revolution; I understand the issue far too deeply to be so naive as to think we can solve such a complex problem so quickly.

Still, I am continually disheartened by the reluctance to even acknowledge that governing bodies have a role to play in getting a grip on this epidemic.

If there’s one thing that could transform the way sport tackles the eating disorder crisis, it’s the same thing that allows so many individual athletes to transform their own recovery process; we have to stop seeing eating disorder sufferers as under-performing athletes, and start recognising them as people, first and foremost. 

Personally, the promise of improved performance has never been the catalyst that some people around me thought it would be. I suppose it’s only natural given the over-encompassing narratives within sport of “food is fuel” and that eating disorders are all about food, that we take a general view that recovery serves solely to restore athletic performance. But this is a far too simplistic take, and it only further drives the portrayal of sufferers as merely under-acheiving athletes. There’s a bigger, far more magnificent picture which we overlook when we talk only about the athlete and forget the person. 

For me, that bigger picture includes the ability to be fully present and enjoy the company of my amazing training squad; the headspace to thrive with the knowledge that I’ve more to offer to the world than my athletic ability; and the discovery that my favourite Sunday long runs are the ones followed by a handsome man taking me out for dinner. This is what’s happened since I’ve put health and happiness at the forefront of everything I do, and guess what? My athletic performance is the best it’s ever been. That is not a coincidence. 

Also not a coincidence, is that we have this “results at all and any cost” culture in the same space as an alarming rate of eating disorders that are often judged purely on their physical implications.

Eating disorders are a mental illness, and to brush an athlete’s struggle under the carpet because they are still performing to a satisfactory level is simply inexcusable.

A repeatedly disregarded truth of eating disorders is that there aren’t always - certainly not initially - signs of physical decline. In fact, many people - myself included - will recall a period of excellent performance and what was an all-time high level of fitness. 

Although this can often be closely followed by a crash in which the true extent of a struggle can be revealed, this is not always the case. A desire to become a better athlete is not what starts an eating disorder in the first place, so why would that be what cures it? 

I’ll say it again: eating disorders are a mental illness; when we talk only about the implications for an athlete’s physical health and performance, we are failing to help so many people who may be fighting a war in their own heads.

We need to appreciate that those recovered from eating disorders know a hell of a lot about fighting intense battles and we would be wise to let them drive change and lead the way in helping sport get through its own battle. We have to stop thinking that those recovered from eating disorders did it just by learning a bit more about nutrition then.

Nobody has a simple solution to the eating disorder crisis, but you know what? Nobody had a simple solution to mine, either. I had to accept that there’s no standing still - you’re either taking steps forward or you’re letting the problem run away from you. 

I’m privileged to have had so many incredible people by my side throughout my own recovery process; I’ll never forget what it was like when I felt like I was fine and everyone was overreacting by having a go at me.

That changed when I realised that they were not pointing fingers of blame, but rather extending hands of support so that I could make the jump from denial to acceptance. For that reason, I’m trying to be empathetic towards the powers that be; I can see that they could be in a similar situation to myself a few years back. 

There’s no shortage of people concerned about this crisis, but nothing will change unless governing bodies accept their share of responsibility.

I think I can sum up this point with just one line from the lyrical genius that is Taylor Swift: “I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror.” Make of that what you will.

So, to governing bodies who are waiting on a psychiatrist to pass them a groundbreaking cure, a dietitian to write some bulletproof nutrition guide, or, frankly, just praying for a bloody miracle - please, lift your heads out of the sand so you can hear the noise from the army of athletes who know what it takes to overcome an intense struggle.

This crisis is not your fault, but it is your responsibility. That’s scary, but big change always is. 

My “moment”, if there ever was such a thing, was the epiphany that my greatest achievements lie on the other side of shitting my pants (metaphorically, obviously...especially if you’re a distance runner), and that’s become my main mantra in both running and life. An “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem it’s me” moment is certainly one of those pants-shitting ones - I know it, and so does everyone else who’s ever had an eating disorder. 

Governing bodies are stuck down a pretty deep hole, but we’ve been down there before and we know the way out. If they ask for help, they’ve got it - I’m sure of it.