To the Bone

There is an element of masochism in endurance sports.

The essential question being: how far can I push myself? How deeply from the cup of suffering can I drink before I turn away?

I've done centuries, marathons and ultra-marathons and there is a gratification from prevailing through the pain and conquering the distance.

Which is why I think I found To the Bone strangely alluring.

To the Bone is a Netflix film that follows an anorexic girl as she goes into therapy. We meet some other characters with eating disorders along the way and at the end everything is wrapped up by fading in upbeat music.

To say that I am deeply skeptical that a serious eating disorder can be overcome so quickly is understating the matter.

However, I came away from the film thinking that the anorexic and I aren't really so different.

That drive, internally competitive, to see just how far you can starve yourself before the whole system breaks seems to me not that far from how many miles can I log. Indeed, at the upper echelons of the sport, the anorexic and the ultra runner don't even look that far apart.

What then is the difference or is there even a difference?

I would argue that endurance sports, while grueling, are at their core life affirming activities. The people drawn to running and cycling are happy when they do it. Whereas people who are drawn to eating disorders are miserable.

That the person with an eating disorder may derive satisfaction from their self-denial of food there isn't the joy you can find in people who run.