My history of anorexia (and recovery) is a little unconventional – as it was actually cycling which helped me to recover from my eating disorder.
As a teenager, and into my early twenties, I suffered with anorexia. I am reluctant to go into too much detail as I know this can be triggering, but for anyone who has been there (or seen a loved one suffer), you will know this is an awful disease which takes over your brain, your body, and well… your life.
I spent years restricting what I ate, searching for the ‘perfect’ number on the scales, and nearly killing myself in the process. I know now that the reality is that number does not exist and searching for it only makes you miserable.
It was only when I started cycling five years ago that I started to rediscover how to have a healthy relationship with food and my body. When I started cycling, I had been physically well for a number of years (i.e., the doctors signed me off because I hit their magic number on the scales), but I was still struggling mentally. I still saw food as an enemy, and my weight as something I needed to control.
But then I fell in love with cycling – with riding outside for hours, with throwing myself up any hill I could find, and with coffee stops with friends. I realised that my body could do amazing things if I took it out of starvation mode and fuelled it. And as my love of cycling grew, the anorexic voice got quieter and quieter until it no longer had a hold over my life. I learnt to fuel my body, and equally as important, to enjoy food (FYI: Hobnobs provide both fuel and pure happiness).
I can safely say that cycling was the key to my recovery.
I have largely felt physically and mentally free from my anorexia for a long time now. However, last year I found some of those thoughts starting to return, unfortunately, because of Zwift.
I should start by saying I LOVE Zwift. It is a huge part of my training and is vital to my physical and mental wellbeing through the rainy Welsh winter (and sometimes summer) months.
But there are aspects to it which has created the perfect breeding ground for disordered eating.
For the first two years of being a Zwifter, I used it exclusively for ERG mode training sessions. In early 2020 I decided to venture into the world of racing and quickly joined a women’s e-sports team. I started racing the Pro-Ams around the time the Esports Regulations were coming in and they introduced the weigh-in protocol. I remember the sheer panic when I read what I would have to do – it brought up memories of weekly weigh-ins with my doctor where my weight would be scrutinised.
I remember one Pro-Am series last summer where we raced 4 or 5 times over 10 days. We had to do a weigh-in video for each race. It felt like I didn’t leave those scales. Many people’s weight will fluctuate throughout the day and week. Having to weigh in so frequently and seeing those numbers change (especially when it would directly affect performance and all your competitors would see your weight adjustments) could mess with anyone’s head.
I even sat one race out because it was a couple of days after my birthday and the pizza/cake/gin celebrations had resulted in a higher number on the scales. I couldn’t face having to do the video and update my profile at that heavier weight, even though the reality was that I had not really gained real weight, it was a fluctuation, and it was back to where it was a couple of days later.
This was the first time my weight had affected my mood in years. I found myself feeling low because the number had increased and wanting to find ways to reduce it.
Every time I raced, I found myself comparing my weight to others and being jealous of anyone lighter than me. I started to get thoughts creeping into my head: “Maybe I could lose a couple of kilos?” In fact, my weight did go down 2-4kg once I started Zwift racing. It may not seem like a lot, but I am very lean, and this put me on the edge of unhealthy.
Luckily, I saw these signs and recognised them from before. I managed to flip my thinking before I spiraled. I could feel my body suffer for that weight loss. I felt weaker and knew I needed to get a handle on it. Part of this involved making the decision to not compete in the Premier League (even though my team had qualified and wanted me in the team). Even at a stage where I feel fully recovered from anorexia, the thought of weekly weigh-ins was too much for me.
I know it is not just me that dreads the weigh-ins. I have heard many stories of men and women not eating (or drinking) for days before, to make sure they are as light as possible. This is not safe. I understand that racers must be accountable, especially at that top level, but there must be a better way of doing this. A way that doesn’t encourage people to starve themselves to be the lightest they possibly can be once a week for a weigh-in.
Editor’s note: Zwift recently revised their weigh-in process, reducing the window to 1-2 hours before the event, instead of 24. We believe this is a positive step, and look forward to supporting Zwift’s efforts to continue developing a ruleset and race culture which encourages both fair competition and healthy dietary practices.
Your Are Not Alone
If you feel you may have a disordered eating problem, or you just don’t know, you are not alone, nor is there any shame in admitting. Contact the American National Eating Disorders Helpline for guidance and support.
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