MIMI ANDERSON
When I was 36, I could barely run a mile. If you’d have told me then I would be attempting to run 840 miles and set a world record, I’d have thought you were completely mad.
Back then my motivation to run had not been to achieve records or win races, it had simply been because I wanted thinner legs. I was recovering from an eating disorder that had plagued my teens and twenties and, while I’d had treatment to help me battle my demons and overcome my body dysmorphia, I still had a hang-up when it came to my legs. While some people have bad hair days, I had bad leg days. Those were the days when whatever I wore, or whatever angle I looked at them, I didn’t think my legs looked good. They looked fat and ugly and I couldn’t bear them.