How athletes’ eating disorders are often overlooked, misunderstood

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Associate professor in clinical psychology at The University of Melbourne, Isabel Krug, whose research focuses on eating disorders, says while anyone in any sport can develop an eating disorder, certain “aesthetic-based” sports like figure skating and gymnastics, which privilege thinness, pose a greater risk factor for athletes.

“These can reinforce disordered eating behaviours, especially, restricting food and orthorexic tendencies [obsession with healthy food], and body dissatisfaction.”

The environment of high-performance sports – in which athletes’ bodies are their tools – can also contribute.

“The way we measure athletes’ bodies, the way we talk about their bodies, the language we use, are all really important factors,” she says.

“Sport can add fuel to the fire.”

Still, Jeacocke says work is being done to better understand the complex relationship between high-performance sport and eating disorders.

In 2020, the AIS and National Eating Disorders Collaboration published a statement on the topic, outlining guidelines for athletes, coaches, support staff, clinicians and sporting organisations.

Jeacocke, who co-authored the statement, says preventing and identifying eating disorders in athletes requires a multipronged approach.

“It’s taking a really holistic view of athletes, looking at their mental and physical health. So, how do we optimise health and well-being to maximise performance?”

“We want to win gold medals, we want to break world records, yes, but how we do that is super important,” she says.

Three athletes – current and former – share their thoughts on why elite sport can be such a breeding ground for disordered eating, and what finally set them on the path to recovery.

‘I just needed someone to sit and listen’

While football is not a weight-based sport, Gorry says the culture of regular weigh-ins, body fat checks and density scans contributed to a creeping obsession over food and the way she looked.

“There’s just so much pressure every day to perform, to be a certain body shape and to be at our peak,” she says.

Gorry, who became a Butterfly Foundation ambassador in 2024, would like to see less focus on weight and a more nuanced understanding of women’s health.

“As footballers, it doesn’t make sense to be weighing in. Everyone’s going to weigh differently, being female athletes, you could put on 3 kilograms while you’ve got your period, and we don’t talk about the reasons why,” she says.

“It’s just a number at the end of the day, it should be how you feel in your body and how you’re performing.”

So, what was the turning point that set her on the path to recovery?

Alongside clinical treatment and pregnancy, which gave her a newfound appreciation for her body, support from teammates helped.

“A big part of it was actually my roommate in the Matildas at the time, Michelle [Heyman]. She noticed and asked, ‘I can see that you’re struggling. Are you okay? I’m here for you’.”

“That’s all I needed. I didn’t need someone to try and help me. I just needed someone to sit there and listen and point me in the right direction without pushing me.”

Now a mother to Harper and Koby, she says her experience with an eating disorder has shaped how she parents, too.

“It’s a conversation Clara [Markstedt, Gorry’s wife] and I both have all the time around food, or even when Harper’s looking at herself in the mirror, just making sure we’re validating her in the right way.”

‘My self-worth was attached to football’

In 2010, Brock McLean, now 39, had just moved from Melbourne Football Club to Carlton. Having recently suffered injuries, he had lost speed on the field. His coaches recommended he lose weight.

“Against the advice of nutritionists and doctors, I agreed to do it because I was so desperate to get back to playing footy. My mental health issues at the time was that my self-worth was attached to football,” he says.

“I was at the very apex of professional football. You couldn’t go any higher than that. So I developed a really unhealthy way of viewing myself.”

McLean embarked on a restrictive meal plan. He would suppress cravings for certain foods for weeks on end before giving in and bingeing, then overtraining and eventually using laxatives.

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These behaviours dovetailed with anxiety, depression and addiction, and he developed bulimia nervosa.

Young men and boys are often underrepresented in conversations about body image and eating disorders, despite the fact around one-third of those who suffer from an eating disorder are male.

McLean says the stigma around eating disorders and mental illness in men’s sport meant he was afraid to seek help.

“I was really uncomfortable opening up to people. I just couldn’t do it because I felt like it was emasculating, particularly for an eating disorder.”

After retiring in 2014 and moving into the corporate world, the self-worth he had derived from football transferred to climbing the corporate ladder.

But through seeing a psychologist, the tide has slowly started to turn.

“It doesn’t matter what you look like, what your job title is, how much money you make. You’re a good person, you treat people well, you’re a great dad and husband,” he says.

‘I only can imagine what I could have achieved’

Dr Jennifer Hamer was diagnosed with anorexia at age 12. A promising endurance runner in her home country of England who represented Great Britain at the European Championships, her eating disordered progressed with her sporting career.

“I was always carrying my eating disorder with me, which I believe held me back a lot,” she says, explaining she was frequently getting injured and spending time at the physio in rehab.

“My pure love for the sport became really, really scarred by the fact that it was now being controlled by an eating disorder.”

While Hamer says it’s difficult to say whether she would have developed an eating disorder had she not been involved in sports, she feels her coaches were ill-equipped to support her and her family.

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“There’s a point in your eating disorder in the early stages where it doesn’t affect you negatively … I was winning races, so they were like, ‘Oh, she’s winning. But let’s keep pushing her harder.’”

“And I wasn’t going to say anything because I was loving it because I was abiding by the eating disorder rules, and I was getting away with all the things that I wanted to do.”

At 22, Hamer’s eating disorder meant she was so weak she could no longer run, and she was admitted to an inpatient clinic. There, she was given a career-ending diagnosis: she had osteoporosis from years of disordered eating.

But for Hamer, now 33, it’s only in the past four to five years she’s really entered a space of recovery. She’s also discovered a love for ocean swimming which allows her to indulge her love for endurance sports.

“You can’t see anyone in the ocean, everyone’s different shapes and sizes and it’s a beautiful sport. It was one that was really accessible for me because I wasn’t going to break my bones doing it,” she says.

Today, Hamer works as a consultant with the Australian Sports Commission, using her lived experience to inform her work in preventing and identifying eating disorders in athletes.

Butterfly National Helpline, 1800 33 4673; Lifeline 13 11 14.

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