Addiction

     Beads of sweat drip down my face. My blood is pumping a mile a minute. The adrenaline is flooding my veins while the wind is flying through my strands of hair. My legs are flying practically off the ground as the sound of the gun lurks in the distance. I speed around the white-striped, black tar as I finish the race in first place. As always, I feel I could have done better; gone faster. In the end, it was that drive that kept me pushing through life.

     It became my drug, running. The surge of adrenaline I felt, the utter numbness through life morphed my teenage life. Nothing can explain the feeling of control I felt when I ran. The emotions in life that I encountered, the faster I ran. I adapted to expressing my emotions through the ability to run. I felt untouchable. The fastest rocket through the streets of my youth. The utter high I felt when I raced through the streets and around the track was seductively deadly. I had felt like I was in control of my life. Running became my inner journal, as my mind whirled with thoughts as I ran.

     I can remember in the darker days of running that it became my drug. Every waking hour was spent wondering when I could get my next fix, run that is. I became self-consumed with being faster and better. I was at the peak of my running and wanted to go to college to run. My educational dreams fell at the waste side as I sought out the ability to continue to run in college. I was slowly killing myself to my dismay. A "healthy" outlet for me developed into a dangerous, deadly web of deceit.

     Food and running became an unhealthy relationship. The less I ate, the faster I thought I could run. Food was fat not fuel to me. The sheer terror of eating became stronger and stronger. I did not allow myself nourishment. In order to justify eating, I had to make sure and run that day. It became a deadly cycle to my mind, body, and soul. I was an exception to all the rules. I felt I did not deserve food, nor could justify eating without some sort of reward, such as running. I felt even in more control when I was barely eating and running. I was "high on life" during the beginning years of my seductive cycle. I felt more in control than ever, despite the reality that I was slowly killing myself. All I wanted to do was run and feel free. The false sense of control I felt, was in reality, out of control.

     The cycle continued into my twenties. I was "fooling" everyone, so I thought. I felt untouchable. All I thought about was running and "how fat I was." I did not let anything bother me. I was numbed out to reality. I was running from my past, zooming though my present, and seductively destroying my future life. In the beginning, I felt on top of the world. As I continued living this seductive cycle, I became more brittle and fragile, the opposite effect I was trying to achieve. I was addicted to running and restricting food. I became more and more tired. I was weak. The opposite effect I was trying to achieve in life.

     My downward spiral was out of control, but I was hooked. When I entered that revolving door in 2002 with my struggle with an eating disorder, I never thought that running would play a role with my eating disorder. What I thought was a "healthy outlet" was actually a deadly drug in my life. Despite all the professionals' advice, it took several self-realizations to hang-up my running shoes, but I finally did.

     Now, I realize that running was like a drug to me. I can't just dabble in running just a little bit. I find that a leisure jog, turns into a seductive cycle within my innerself. I realize that I don't need to run to justify eating. I find other pleasures that are healthy to help me cope in life.  I enjoy the simple pleasures in life more than ever. I cherish, respect, and nourish my body. It's that same drive that I used for running, I apply to my everyday life.

"Every day I tell myself that I am worthy of food to fuel and nourish my body."

Yours Truly,
A.N.T.