Learnings from the Olympics, pieces of my story, hopes for the future.

The Olympics happened. And this year, as I think we can all attest, as much of the conversation was about mental health as it was about physical performance. While this isn’t explicitly about anxiety, it does tie into that form of mental illness, and the role it can play in the overall health of an athlete — or ANYONE, for that matter.

For me, one of the most inspiring moments of this Olympics was seeing Molly Seidel take home bronze in the women’s marathon — a feat only accomplished by two other U.S. women in history.

Was it the medal that impressed me most? Sure, yes, as a former competitive marathoner who had dreamt about taking my running career to the next level (this was abandoned due to autoimmunity, RED-S, and other health factors), I was insanely psyched to see an American woman get on the podium in a race that has been elusive for so many.

But the real inspiration was knowing that 5 years ago, right before the last Olympic Trials in 2016, Molly had checked herself into treatment for her eating disorder instead of pushing ahead into that Olympic year.

She had made a choice to put her whole self first. She had the foresight to know that without her mental health, she would not have physical success in the sport. An eating disorder (and any form of disordered eating on the spectrum) has far-reaching consequences on the physical body, impacting every system from hormonal function and digestion, to mood and concentration, to bone and muscle health, to cardiovascular and lung capacity, and so much more. Beyond that, the mental toll it takes is immeasurable.

We saw something similar with Simone Biles, who also stepped away from competing to take care of her whole self. She had the inner knowing to draw a line that protected her from further harm, even if it meant public criticism; even if it meant not performing.

These two examples are everything to me. Because we rarely see this in action. We rarely witness anyone, let alone Olympians, say: “actually, this insane physical challenge that I’ve spent 4 years preparing for? I can’t do this if I’m not mentally okay”.

I spend my days (literally, every day) working with amazing humans on how their brain and body are interconnected. (When I’m teaching an athlete how to fuel for their sport, or when I’m supporting someone in the depths of an eating disorder, or when I’m helping someone dismantle the diet culture beliefs that are holding them back from a positive relationship with food and their body image). Because body image isn’t about the way we look. And disordered eating isn’t really about the food. Both of these things have to do with our self-worth, self-awareness, self-compassion, and self-confidence. If we are truly at peace with who we are (this is the mental part), then we aren’t at war with ourselves (this is where the physical toll occurs). Waging a war in your mind leads to waging a war against your body. In disordered eating or compulsive exercise, the body takes a hit because the mind is overlooked.

There was a time in my life where I had no peace between my mind and my body. I was entirely focused on coping with my anxiety, and I only knew how to do that through running. Coping felt like the only way to survive the darkness in my mind. Eventually, that snowballed into some obsessive behaviors with food and training as a way to feel in control of my athletic performance (and therefore, my self-worth). Again, that desire for more and more success in sport was really just a way to distract myself from the crippling anxiety I was experiencing. I was distracting myself from the real issue. I was numbing my emotions with behaviors that could never and would never lead to inner resolution.

I tell you this because it took my many years to step away from the sport and prioritize my whole self. It took a lot of strength, grit, and resilience. It took a lot of sitting in intense discomfort. It took a lot of grieving. And it was NOT always a graceful process, trust me.

*This post went viral on my Instagram, and for good reason. Click through to read the caption.*

So I look at athletes like Molly and Simone, and I know the strength and vulnerability it takes. My heart breaks over and over again; and at the same time, my whole spirit feels ignited. I’ve never walked in their shoes, or on their same path, but I’ve climbed that mountain. It’s the same mountain that we all climb. And yet they took that step with the eyes of the world upon them. They prioritized themselves in the face of immense pressure to do the opposite.

We can take so much away from this. We can do the same for ourselves. AND we can support those who make the choice to put their mental health above all else.

My hope is that you’ll do just that. My hope is that if you are struggling, or know someone who is, that you know there is something better out there, and that it’s worth giving up everything for a healthy mind. It’s the foundation for everything we do in this world. The only way forward is through. May the athletic world take this seriously, and may we all know our worth has nothing to do with our bodies.

See you next time my friends, xo,

Abbie