A New Understanding of Athletic Beauty
Twenty-one and in the last quarter of my third year of college, I decided to drop my classes and take a short leave. I was overwhelmed, mentally fraying at the edges, and just physically exhausted. I was in treatment for bulimia, living with an ex (and other friends, mind you), taking my most challenging course-load to-date, working as a caregiver for a disabled woman, and my best friend in town had just moved across the country. I knew, in the thick of it, that if I continued on with my full schedule I would undoubtedly under-perform and possibly even fail a class or two. Sometimes I forget that I took a quarter off because I attended classes for the first few weeks. I remember French Women's Literature and my introduction to Colette, the curious manner in which her writing hit my brain, the dread that arrived when I considered having to create countless pages of analytical work for that class. I was also briefly enrolled in a Lit class entitled, ever so ominously, The Body . Th
