What messages are you putting out there?
There's been a lot of positive messages being shared lately in the running community around body image and emphasizing what the body can DO, not what it looks like, which is great, and it has given me a lot to think about. This sport (and society at large) still has a long way to go. As female runners, we can tread a fine line around societal expectations of women, with sometimes disruptive and sometimes damaging repercussions. We (as a group) are generally leaner than the average person, or even the average female athlete. In this way, female runners conform to how society views femininity, in one regard. While being a runner and being lean is somewhat par for the course as a physiological function of the training involved, for some within the sport, and some outside it, this expectation, this pressure, this "ideal" is extremely harmful. On the other hand, when we do see someone competing and succeeding who is defying those expectations (too “big,” too “muscular,” too “manly”), the response is often one of surprise and suspicion rather than acceptance and applause.
We can't ignore that. I am not saying that every athlete has a body image problem, but every athlete has a responsibility to set a strong example of health and strength (whatever that looks like to them) for their team mates, their competitors, younger women with aspirations in the sport, and young women in general. We can't simply push the issue aside and say, "Well I'm fine, how does it affect me?" because so many others are going through battles we will know nothing about, and ignoring the association between distance running and body image struggles, anxiety, disordered eating, and long term health issues like low bone density, amenorrhea, and hormone imbalances, is extremely problematic, not only to ourselves and our peers, but the sport as a whole. We can’t sit idly by and be complicit to the negativity, body shaming, and stigma that surround these issues. We need to tackle them head on.
For at least since the latter parts of high school, I've felt "bigger" than other runners I competed against. This wasn't always a negative thought. Sometimes it was quite simply a fact; that I was taller, or had more muscle, or broader shoulders, than many of the other girls I saw on the starting line. And in many ways, my build has been an advantage; you need a strong body to crush hills on the cross country course, to steeplechase, to close fast on the track, and to endure the grind of a long race. Yet had it not been for the constant focus on the expected "smallness" of female runners bodies, I may not have ever thought twice about how I looked compared to others.
However, as I've entered the adult world of working full-time (and attempting to train at a high level and still pursue my athletic goals), I have felt my self-talk change. It's hard enough to line up against all of the other elites, knowing that for the majority, it is their primary "job." I simply cannot train as much as them, or have perfect nutrition (when even getting to the grocery store can feel impossible some weeks), or have access to the same resources for treatment, coaching, altitude training, the list goes on. Sitting at a computer the majority of a day isn't good for anyone either, mentally or physically. So, on the start line, I can fall into the trap of feeling like an imposter among the "real" athletes. Then, you add the body image factor, and the fleeting doubts I may have before just brushed aside, can evolve into a nasty downward spiral of negativity. For the most part, I still manage to turn this self-talk back on itself, and I've proven to myself time and again that I don't need to be "perfect" or a "real" elite to do well.
But I am just one person, and in this age of social media, I would say most of us struggle with feeling "imperfect" or "less than" at some point or another. The conversation has started and we need to continue to shine a light on those who defy expectations, who go against the grain and disprove the stereotype, while simultaneously lifting all female athletes up as strong and powerful, regardless of size. Every body and every athlete functions - physiologically and psychologically - in unique ways that only the person themselves can ever begin to truly grasp. What works for one person will not work for another. But we can't begin to be at peace with our own bodies if we're constantly comparing ourselves to the appearance and behaviors of others, using self- and society-imposed metrics of worth.
Ultimately it begins with us. Training ourselves to engage in positive self talk, flipping the script when doubt creeps in, and focusing on how we feel below the surface when we train and compete, rather than how we look doing it. But running is an individual sport within an expansive community of teammates, competitors, and supporters, so as much as possible, we need to be cognizant of the messages (latent or overt) that we are putting out there. Honesty, transparency and vulnerability are essential to changing the narrative and driving sustainable and healthy change for the current and future generations of athletes. Personally, I am committing to doing a better job with my own internal and external messaging. It’s tempting to keep our struggles to ourselves; our fears, doubts, and demons, but if running has taught me anything, it’s that putting ourselves out there and being vulnerable to risk, reward, and failure, is always worth it.
turnnoffyourmind
kaledo-art
origamiaround
baratheonpilled
yousharknotpass
ellievsbear
