Why I'm more scared of running shirtless than running 50 miles through the forest

On Sept. 7, I ran 50 miles through the Talladega National Forest. I had a blast, and I’m so glad I was crazy enough to think I could do it.

If you care about how the race went, you can see some pics and a short synopsis on my Facebook page, here.

I ran the Rebecca Mountain 50 Mile trail race. Rebecca Mountain, though it's only been around for three years, has gained a reputation for being 50 miles of heat and suffering. Around half of the people who started the race dropped out, most of them due to heat-related complications.

But I’m not here to talk about my race. I’m here to talk about the fact that I took off my shirt at mile 20 I was more scared of seeing shirtless photos of myself than I was of running 50 miles in Alabama summer sun.

I ditched the shirt at mile 20 as the heat index began to climb rapidly. Based on news reports, the heat index was at least 105 that day. I was sweating so much that the shirt felt more like a wet towel than anything. In the moment, I didn’t care about the shirt, I was burning up and knew I had to lose the shirt if I wanted to stay cool.

Here's me at mile 25. It was hot, but some ice in my bandana and some potatoes made me feel better.

I’m not what most would consider "plus-sized," but I don’t have washboard abs either. I’ve got some curves and actually a good bit of muscle.

Like most women, I have some fat on my stomach. I’m really tired of calling it “extra fat” as if having any fat on your body is some sort of moral flaw, as women have learned from hearing the praises sung for women with less body fat.

I’m also 5’1”. I’m short. And when you’re short, have curves and build muscle easily, you’re predisposed to look a certain way. I’ll never be one of those long, lanky runners. It’s just not in the cards for me. I accept that about myself.

Yet, I’m still insecure when I take off my shirt.

Here I am at mile 37. I cringed when my friend, Michael, took this photo of me. I feared seeing what I would look like running, mid-stride, with no shirt. Turns out, I look strong and fit, despite having been running for more than nine hours.



Why? Why do I feel this way?

I could get into a lot of things about body shaming and how girls are taught that their bodies are a threat to men’s morality and how the beauty industry uses fear to force women to buy their products and get plastic surgery. But, I’ll spare you my rage for another day. 

What I want to talk about is all the reasons I (and you too) should love your body and maybe run without a shirt more often.

My body, the same one that’s allowing me to type these words, ran 50 miles.

And before 50 miles, it ran 31 miles (50 kilometers).

And before 50 kilometers, a marathon.

And before a marathon, a half marathon.

And before the half, there was the 5K. The 5K that angsty 13-year-old Anna ran on the high school cross country team.

I started running because I was overweight and I wasn’t happy. I saw my dad finish a marathon the year before. I saw all kinds of people, black and white, skinny and not, male and female, running. And they seemed so happy and relieved to pay money to run 26.2 miles.

I thought that if those people, who came in all colors, shapes and genders, could run and be happy, then maybe I should try running.

I essentially started running because I didn’t like something about myself. But now, 11 years later, I’ve found more ways to love myself and be proud of who I am, thanks to running.

What I want other women to understand is that you don’t have to run 50 miles or a 5K to love your body or to take care of it. Losing weight or inches doesn’t make you any more worthy of love.

But, if you want to lose some weight or inches for your health or because you want to feel better, by all means, go for it. If you’re losing weight to try to attain some ridiculous standard of worth as a woman, you’re doing it for the wrong reasons.

Body aesthetic goals are fine, but don’t sacrifice your health to accomplish those “goals.”

In high school, I restricted calories to try to achieve a certain “look.” Guess what? When you’re 5’1”, you’ll never look quite like the girls who are 5’10”. That’s ok. It doesn’t mean you are any less healthy than they are.

I never was able to look like those girls. It killed me. I was fast, one of the fastest in my high school section, but I was still unhappy with how I looked. It took nearly passing out in class after lunch one day for me to realize I had to eat. I couldn’t eat 1,000 calories a day and run cross country. It just wouldn’t work.

I set out on a journey to lose some weight in May 2018 after I stepped on the scale and immediately started crying. I was the heaviest I had been since high school when I decided to start running. As it turns out, life changes, moving and stress can really do a number on your previously healthy lifestyle.

I set out to lose weight, but what I found is that what I really needed was to gain fitness and strength, not weight.

I did lose some pounds, yes, but I didn’t get down to my wedding day weight, which was my goal. I did, however, accomplish many other significant fitness goals.

In April 2019, I ran my fastest half marathon. I was, on race day, about 10 pounds heavier than my weight when I raced in college. I finished that race feeling oh so strong. Those extra pounds, which were mostly muscle, benefitted me.

The week after that PR half marathon, I ran my fastest 50K trail race.

At mile 45 of 50 last Saturday, I slumped down in a chair exhausted at an aid station as workers refilled my pack with water and got me a snack. A friend snapped my photo. I cringed. I knew my slumped position would make fat rolls on my stomach.




I didn’t want to see those photos. In fact, I thought about them as I finished those last five miles. But you know what? Anyone who slumps in a chair gets a few rolls of skin.

It's insane to think that I was more worried about not wearing a shirt than I was about the heat, or about eating enough calories to finish the race.

After the race, I decided I didn’t care if I had a fat roll or not. My body carried me 50 miles. I didn’t get sick. I didn’t break down. I finished strong and felt good most of the way.



Who cares? Why do I care? I’m healthy, I’m happy, and I’m doing things less than 1 percent of anyone in the world will ever do.

Yes, I want to maintain a healthy weight and fitness level for the rest of my life. Instead of doing it to meet some weird misogynistic beauty standard, I’m doing it because I love my body and I love to feel good and to feel strong.

Get that gym membership. Hire a personal trainer. Start cooking healthier meals. But, do it because you love your body and you want to be healthy and fit for life. Don’t lose weight or join the gym or stop eating carbs because you hate yourself--make better choices for you.