“I thought being a competitive athlete meant going to the extremes”

Lived experience advocate and dietitian Tayla shares her story as an elite athlete, and how this impacted her development of an eating disorder.

We know that athletes face an increased risk of eating disorders, with recent research showing that 44% of elite women athletes have experienced an eating disorder, and/or disordered eating¹. Despite this, athletes are often less likely to seek help². I know this, because I was one of them.

The things that felt normal … but weren’t

I was an elite track running athlete, and I actually had a really positive introduction to the sport, and it was something I genuinely loved. But over time, it became something I put pressure on myself to perform in – to improve, achieve and constantly be better. Somewhere along the way, I started to wonder: “What if I just changed a few things… maybe I could be 1% better?”

It sounded innocent at the time, but those small changes – “eating a little healthier” and “losing a little bit of weight” – became more important and were further reinforced by what I was seeing on social media, and how others perceived my focus as “commitment”.

Slowly, these behaviours that weren’t supportive or sustainable, started to feel… normal. I began thinking that it was ‘normal’ to ignore my hunger cues, train without fuelling properly, feel ‘proud’ of eating less, exercise despite exhaustion and to avoid certain foods.

A lot of my behaviours continued to feel validated and encouraged, especially with the harmful messaging I was hearing in the world around me. Looking back, I can see how easily these behaviours were to slip into because they are messages that exist not just in sport, but everywhere.

False sense of ‘going well’ and that I was ‘doing the right things’

For a period of time, things seemed to be ‘working’. My training improved, I was performing well and I was achieving results and that made it even harder to recognise what was actually happening.

It didn’t feel like things were getting worse…yet. This period became a false sense of safety and a calm before things began to unravel.

I didn’t think I was ‘sick enough’

Even as things became more challenging, I didn’t think I was “sick enough” to need help. I told myself:

• “This is just what it takes”
• “It’s meant to feel uncomfortable”
• “It will get better eventually”

I kept comparing my own experience to others and minimised what I was going through – I felt like support was something you had to earn. I remember telling people: “I’ll get help… I just want to try on my own first.” But what I didn’t realise was that trying to “outwork” something like this what kept it going.

When ‘healthy’ starts hurting

What started as something that felt “healthy” slowly became harmful, but because I was an athlete, pushing myself felt normal and even encouraged. It felt rewarding to go ‘all in’, to be disciplined, as I was being fuelled by the belief that it would all pay off.

But there came a point where this determination to be “healthy” and maybe lose “a little bit of weight” stopped supporting me and started taking everything from me. It didn’t just take my ability to engage in my sport, but also who I was as a person.

What people didn’t see behind the scenes 

From the outside, things can look fine, even positive. But internally, it felt like:

• never quite being enough
• constant negotiation around food, rest, and movement
• ongoing food noise
• trying to control everything, but feeling out of control
• training more because it never felt like enough
• seeing something very different in the mirror
• losing so many friends

It was no longer about track running. I was fully controlled by the eating disorder and instead was striving to be the “best” at my new ‘sport’ of restriction, and becoming the smallest version of myself.

My turning point

I had multiple opportunities and so much encouragement to seek support, but inevitably it was a decision that I had to make myself, and no one could force me to get better. My turning point was a moment where I had no other option but to seek support, and reaching out for help was met with feelings of fear and also relief, that I no longer had to do this on my own.

Important lessons I needed to learn in recovery 

These are my key lessons that I learned in my recovery journey, and I hope they may be of value to you also.

• My body is the least interesting think about me (and when you begin to explore parts outside of this, it provides so much more perspective)
• Things may feel worse, before they feel better
• Recovery didn’t mean losing myself as an athlete or person. If anything, it’s about the process of getting to know myself more deeply – beyond the rules, the pressure, and the noise.
• It is ok to experience challenging thoughts or feelings. It’s about how you respond and being able to choose the most supportive step (the eating disorder voice will try to trick you).

The lessons I’ve learnt from this experience continue to shape my relationship with food, my body, and movement today. While I would never wish this experience upon anyone, I hope that by sharing it, you might not have to navigate it alone.

What I wish for anyone reading this to know…

So, to those athletes or anyone who is struggling, or think they may be having a tricky time with food or their body but are unsure if it’s ‘bad enough’ … you don’t need to wait. You’re not failing for finding this hard and you are not ‘less disciplined’ for needing support.

If something in your relationship with food, exercise, or your body doesn’t feel quite right, that’s enough.

About the Author

Tayla Clegg is an Accredited Practising Dietitian who brings both lived experience and professional insight to her work in eating disorder recovery. Tayla also works with an organisation on the Sunshine Coast called endED who support individuals and families through recovery. She also delivers presentations for schools, carers, and sporting communities, with a focus on challenging diet culture and promoting supportive environments for recovery.

Tayla is committed to sharing messages of hope, that recovery is possible and no one has to navigate it alone. Outside of work, she enjoys walks by the beach, exploring cafés, and creative hobbies. Tayla has also restored her relationship with running and engages in running for enjoyment.

References

¹ ABC Sport & Deakin University. (2026). ABC Elite Athletes in Australian Women’s Sport Survey. Accessed via: https://www.abc.net.au/news/2026-01-12/abc-elite-athletes-womens-sport-survey-full-summary/105989848

² Fatt, S. J., George, E., Hay, P., Jeacocke, N., Day, S., & Mitchison, D. (2024). A systematic review and meta‐synthesis of qualitative research investigating disordered eating and help‐seeking in elite athletes. International Journal of Eating Disorders, 57(8), 1621-1641. Accessed via: https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/eat.24205#eat24205-bib-0039

Get Support

If you’re struggling with an eating disorder, disordered eating or body image concerns, please know that help is available. For confidential and free counselling, call the Butterfly National Helpline on 1800 ED HOPE (1800 33 4673) or chat online or email, 7 days a week, 8am-midnight (AEST/AEDT).