Never Too Fat to Hike

My friend ED (eating disorder)

I developed bulimia as a 120-pound 11 year old. Being fat meant being undesirable, socially ostracized, judged, and stereotyped as a glutton by society. I thought I was headed in that direction, so I starved and I puked my way through middle school and high school. Now fully recovered, my worst fear has come true. I am fat. Only now it’s not so scary. I am happier than I ever could have been in the ‘normal-sized body’ I was struggling to maintain.

It is very common for people to have co-occurring eating disorders. Now that I work as a counselor in an eating disorder recovery facility, I know that one of the eating disorders I had is called Atypical Anorexia Nervosa. There is really nothing atypical about it. It is very common among people with eating disorders to weigh in the healthy range of the BMI scale while malnourishing themselves to maintain it.

Nowadays, if a doctor would look at everything but my obese BMI, they would say I was perfectly healthy. I bike to work an hour each day, hike on weekends, and eat in a well-rounded way. More importantly than any number on a scale is that I feel healthy both physically and mentally. Despite my recovery, I still have to stay vigilant to protect myself from relapse. This means redirecting self-deprecating thoughts and controlling my environment to promote resiliency.

One Opinion too Many

While researching gear, around every internet corner was something I didn’t want to see. Like reddit threads debating whether it’s a good idea for a fat person to hike and conversations about if one should lose or gain weight for the trail. I try to control my environment so that I see mostly body neutral or positive media, but it is impossible to avoid diet talk or weight loss discussions.

In-person opinions sting a bit worse. A couple nights ago, I complained to my roommate about how it seems ‘everyone’s’ thought when seeing a fat person hiking is that they must be trying to lose weight. Low and behold, that night she went to dinner with her mom who said, “It’s so great that Lucia will be losing weight by hiking the PCT.”

If I listened to the opinions of others here are some things I might believe:

1. Every pound lost is a pound I’m not carrying

While this fact is indisputably true, what I also know is that intentionally losing weight is miserable. If I try to lose weight before the trail, I will possibly go down an eating disorder relapse rabbit hole. I might continue to under eat on the trail, leading to fatigue and weight loss that is too rapid. Plus, the point is mute given that 95% of diets fail resulting in weight being gained back. Though I wouldn’t be carrying the weight of as much fat, I would be carrying the weight of overthinking about my body image. This would be far more miserable baggage.

2. I won’t be able to keep up

Everyone has a different pace, and the fact is I have no idea how my pace will compare to those around me. In the past, I’ve hiked slower than my hiking partners but had more will to hike longer and take shorter breaks. In the end, it all evened out. I can easily hike 10 miles in a day, a distance many people start out at on the PCT. Though I’m by no means a fast hiker, if I had never heard that fat folks are slow, I would not think that of myself.

3. I will have a lower chance of success due to my size

This one is silly because success is relative and arbitrary. The success of completing the trail is completely unlikely due to how I’ll need to leave the trail after 3.5 months to go to graduate school. I am redefining success for myself to not hinge on weight lost on the trail but how well I take care of my body. Success to me means being kind to others, not pushing my body into overuse, and feeding myself well.

4. It will be wonderful when I transform my body on the trail

I have no idea how my body will change when I’m hiking. Chances are I will lose some weight. However, it is important that I don’t focus on this on trail. As soon as weight loss becomes the goal, hiking could become significantly less enjoyable to me. If I do lose weight and become fixated on the idea I could lose more, a relapse could be triggered.

5. My joints will suffer

Is a medical problem that I’ve never had really a reason not to hike? Stopping at the slightest hint of a problem will be crucial to treat and assess any on trail injury. I have also been doing strength training routines posted by blaze physio. In addition to this I found an article on exercises to protect and strengthen knees which I will give a try.

I’m hiking, extra 60 pounds and all

In the end I will try to not let any ideas about what it means to be a fat hiker that are not my own follow me onto the trail. I know my body and its capabilities better than any internet strangers! No matter the weight, our bodies are capable of wonderful things. Mine fights infection, carries me miles, allows me to exist and experience the world, and so much more. My fat is an adaptation that protects me against starvation, keeps me warm, and makes it easier for me to float in water. It may even protect me if I accidentally under nourish myself on the trail. I am so grateful that my body will be embarking with me on this crazy journey.

p.s.

As I was writing this article, I found myself deleting the first paragraph over and over again. How do I talk about body fat in this world where accepting having a fat body is so controversial? And how do I expose one of my deepest vulnerabilities and strengths here, to strangers? I had the urge to rattle off about my opinions rather to avoid this vulnerability. In the end, the truest information I have to give is my experience being a fat hiker recovered from an eating disorder. Let me know in the comments what you are grateful for that your body does for you!