The American ski racer Alice Merryweather sat out the 2020-21 season while confronting an eating disorder. She had gone to a training camp in September, hating the workouts and the time on the mountain, wondering where her love of skiing had gone. A doctor diagnosed her anorexia.

“I just kept pushing and I kept telling myself, ‘You’re supposed to love this, what’s wrong with you?’” Merryweather said. “I’m just trying to be the best athlete that I can be.”

Merryweather said that she began to open up to friends and teammates. Most knew someone else who had gone through a similar experience. “I realized, why do we not talk about this more?” Merryweather said. “I am not alone in this.”

The more I deal with my own pressure and anxieties, I wonder this same question myself.

Why don't we talk about this more?

Why is stoicism the preferred method for dealing with mental health struggles?

Why do we pretend that the things we want at the end of the day are different from most any other human?

And when will we learn that the only truly sustainable way to really get the things that you want (and the things that truly matter) is through cooperation?

Friends came for dinner. A public-interest lawyer, noticing I was bigger, asked what I’d been up to.

“I'm really into lifting weights right now,” I said. “Trying to get strong.”

The lawyer’s wife, a marathoner and family therapist, appeared startled, as if concerned about my emotional state. She looked me in the eye and said, “Why?”

I’ve been trying to motivate myself to join a gym lately. My goal is to get a six pack. I’m aware that this is typically accomplished through diet, but lifting weights would make me look well rounded, not malnourished.

This article spoke to me as someone who has identified as a marathoner for the past 10 years (and continues to do so). While I may secretly want to look like a professional wrestler, I also don’t need to gain 50 pounds of muscle.

Just like basically everything else in life, there is a spectrum between cardiovascularly fit yet scrawny, and strong beyond belief yet can’t run around the block.

I spent the past year telling myself I’d make changes. I told myself that I’d rather be in a much larger body and competing healthy, than in a smaller body and be broken standing on the sidelines. That “looking the part” of an athlete doesn’t mean shit if you are too injured to even get to the start line. I knew these things. And at times, I thought I was succeeding in changing things.

But with the fourth stress fracture two weeks before Barkley this year, I hit bottom. With sport taken from me, I looked around at all the things that had propped up my “management” of the eating disorder, and realized my disorder was all I had left.

I’ve been fortunate enough to never have to deal with something like anorexia or bulimia, but I find myself constantly struggling with my body image and eating habits.

I know logically that people don’t look at me and judge me as fat or pudgy... in fact, I would venture to guess most people don’t give my appearance a second thought.

But as someone who deals with me and my body every single day, it is hard to sometimes silence that voice in your head who tells you that you have to eat those 8 cookies, and then turns around and tells you that you’re getting fat again.

Anyway, I’ve looked up to Amelia Boone ever since I heard her on the Tim Ferris Show, and we were lucky enough to have her on C Tolle Run as well. Her performances speak for themselves, but the vulnerability she displays in this post makes me respect her even more.

If you’re struggling with an eating problem, talk about it with someone.

I'm 25 pounds heavier than I was this time last year.

I could blame it on a ton of things, including a lack of motivation to run after the ultramarathon, my knee surgery in June, and work-related stress.

Instead of playing the blame game though, I've decided I'm gonna do something about it.

After reading The 4 Hour Body earlier this year, I took a few big points away that I've been adopting in my life. One of those points is to find small changes you can make to your life that will yield big gains.

I think those of you who know me would say that one of my biggest vices in life are sweets. I'll easily pound a quart of ice cream in a single sitting if I can. At weddings, I'll grab two edge pieces (and hopefully, one of those is a corner piece). My wife's freshly-baked batch of three dozen cookies will not last a full week.

Another trait I know about myself is that I need to set audacious goals for myself, if for no other reason than to prove that I can do it.

With those points in mind, I've decided that November 2018 is going to be "No Sweets November" for me.

What are the rules, you ask? Here goes:

• Sweets includes any food product with a ton of artificial sugar. For me, this would include ice cream, cookies, brownies, cake, candy, muffins, breath mints, and donuts.
• Naturally-occurring sweets will not be eliminated, so I can still do things like apples and grapes.
• From midnight on November 1st until 11:59pm on November 30th, I will not consume any sweet.

Some will say that this month is probably the worst month for doing this. After all, my birthday is on the last day of this challenge, not to mention Thanksgiving and two weddings.

I would argue that those reasons alone make it the perfect month to abstain from sweets. After all, the point of this self-imposed restriction is to lose weight. I'll be much happier with myself if I can end the month 3 pounds lighter than if I were the same weight and ate sweets all month.

I'm already off to a good start. While going for a walk this morning, I found a full sized, unopened bag of M&Ms laying on the sidewalk. I picked it up and thought about tearing right into it, but after remembering the challenge, I handed it to my friend instead.

See you in December!

I always thought weight loss was hard because I’d witnessed people throw themselves at it hardcore and then fail just as hard. In contrast, I chose an easy, long-term, data-driven plan and stuck with it. Small changes over a long time make a big difference.

Chad Austin used The Hacker's Diet, which says if you eat 500 calories a day less than you burn, you'll lose one pound a week. Aggregate that over a few months and it seems like doing this diet is a real no-brainer.