Today marks three years since I ran my first ever half marathon (and placed in the top 100 of course). More than that, it marks three years since I realized I was free from any eating disorder to hold me down.

I like food-scratch that-I really love food. (Who doesn't love Chipotle and wings??) Old me would be smacking my head into a pillow wondering why I would admit something *so* embarrassing for the world to see. Even as an anorexic I loved food. One could probably look at the amount of food I ate with an eating disorder and still think it to be almost the amount of food a person should eat. (Cue old me cringing and hiding in a closet from embarrassment of this admission). While I still may not have reached the amount of calories that teenage me should have eaten, the bigger problem was my over-compensation in exercise.

My life revolved around burning calories. I did my homework standing just so that my body could be that much more efficient at burning calories. I spent hours on end at the gym, and didn't eat any amount close to what I could have to make up for it. Being skinny mattered more to me than my life itself. It transformed me into someone different. For the last two years of my high school life I was someone who withdrew herself from the world and preferred a lonely night in over hanging out with friends (anyone who knows me knows I hate being home or alone). I was alive, but I wasn't living.

Me at my skinniest:

When I finally came to college, I was thrust into a different environment and decided I would enjoy my life again. The very first day of school, three amazing people were placed in my life at just the right time to get me through my freshman year. April of that year, I ran my first half marathon. As I was running through the different stops and grabbing all the goodies being offered, including, but not limited to Oreos (maybe not my best mid-race idea), I realized that I didn't care anymore.

Post-race I wound up putting on a lot of weight both as a result of depriving myself for years and recovery. I spent two years fluctuating in weight and struggling with my self image since I was no longer "the skinny girl." However, this past December I began working out steadily again-but not overboard-AND eating healthy (while allowing myself to splurge from time to time). I have felt happier and better all around. I finally feel like the person I was before all of this happened: carefree, fun, and ecstatic about life.

Me at my heaviest:

I often disregard the feat that is conquering an eating disorder, shaking it off like it was just a phase of growing up. I also don't acknowledge enough how lucky I am to have found wonderful friends to help me surpass it. However, looking back, I realize that I am grateful not to be one of the statistics that has let the disease defeat them. I am so appreciative to be alive and healthy.

We all have our own battles. Yours may not have shown as physically as mine but it doesn't mean it was any less tough. Look back through your life and appreciate what you've made it through and who you have become because of it. We are all stronger than we think ourselves to be. I may not be the skinniest I've ever been in my life (thank goodness), but I am the healthiest, and I'm going to continue treating my body the way it deserves.