Eating Disorders A Problem Bigger Than “Thin Runners” RACHAEL STEIL
I
n my book, Running in Silence, I describe my struggle with eating disorders as an All-American runner. The following excerpt from the beginning of the book illustrates the level of desperation I reached during my sophomore year of college. The incident occurred in the kitchen of a nearly empty dormitory where I was the guest of a friend: With a butter knife in my hand and the numbers on the scale in my mind, I pulled the crumbs and rock-hard frosting of the frozen birthday cake up to my tongue. And I clawed. I clawed deeper into the cake from my squatting position over the chilly kitchen floor, clawed desperately for any morsel I could chip off the solid block of sugar. All the while the hair on the back of my neck stood up for fear that someone would come by and catch me in the act, for fear that someone would walk into this cold, white kitchen and find good, sweet Rachael sitting before the open door of the freezer as a food thief. 22
techniques AUGUST 2021
I could have waited for the cake to thaw. I could have pulled the cover off the dessert to avoid cutting my wrist as my hand scrabbled beneath the plastic. In fact, you could say that with proper discipline and control, I could have avoided the incident altogether. Only, I had been the epitome of discipline for the past two years. The girl who sneaked into the desolate kitchen that night didn’t even recognize herself when she frantically opened all the cabinets and drawers only to find them bare, when she pulled at her face with desperation and want. The girl who had been eating cooked food all day when she seemed so adamant about her raw food lifestyle could barely believe she was now putting not just her purity in jeopardy, but also her running success. Nonetheless, she opened that freezer door to find the frozen cake sitting before her like a god on its chilly throne. All-American. I slammed the blunt knife into the stiff
icing. School record-holder. Brown cake crumbs scattered everywhere. Raw. Food. Runner. I grabbed a chunk of frosting between my shaking fingers, all the while knowing this was not the first time I was putting my newest, greatest running career at stake. I could already imagine the confusion on my parents’ faces when I crossed the finish line of the 5k in over 18 minutes; how my teammates would shake their heads and mutter something about “her raw food diet” and the skeptical eyes that would trail up and down my growing body. I feared how upsetting it would be to reveal to everyone the Rachael I had tried to push down for so long, the Rachael my new college friends and coaches never saw because I entered collegiate cross country and track with a body shrunken from my high school one. That body was now equipped with a dark voice whispering its incantations,
