We've Gone Too Far

Since I've already addressed the issue of body talk in a previous post, I'll try not to repeat myself too much, but it seems that writers and fans of sports have gone too far with madly condemning individuals who mean no harm. Yes, it would be nice if everyone would shut the fuck up about appearance, but to suggest comments about body composition are primarily mean-spirited or harmful or directed only at women is incorrect. Humans are mostly visual and social creatures. Those who can't see use other senses to create a mental picture of the world around them. No matter who you are, you have a way to take in your surroundings that includes perceiving others. It’s part of our nature to be aware of appearance on some level, and it's a basic understanding that how someone looks to another person is subjective. 

When it comes to the media, male athletes have been under the microscope for years, and talk about how they look continues today. In many cases, how journalists and sportscasters describe male athletes is borderline abusive. Ever hear of a guy named "big" Andy "the Viking" Fordham? How about William "the refrigerator" Perry, Tyrone “Muggsy” Curtis Bogues, Iain Dowie, Roy "Shrimp" Worters, Charles "the Round Mound of Rebound" Barkley, or Nikolai Valuev, the "Russian Giant"? Even though few people in the media were kind to these individuals when it came to describing their appearance, comments about the size and looks of men rarely cause a stir, and the list of derogatory nicknames for them is endless. 

Back in the 80s, the commentary on American figure skater Brian Boitano seemed to focus on how much taller he was than the other skaters, especially in comparison to Scott Hamilton, whom they referred to as "especially small" or "short," yet nobody complained about it then or now. The occasional comment about size was never the main focus; the athlete's phenomenal skating was. Negative and neutral comments occur so often when describing male athletes that we don't really pay attention, even when talk of American male distance runners turns to how much bigger they are compared to the "bird-like" runners in some African countries. Nobody said shit when someone at Podium Runner referred to Galen Rupp as "The reed-thin, clean cut [sic], baby-faced Rupp" or when Runner's World talked about how thin and pale the guy is, but if anyone comments on the appearance of a female athlete, holy hell, someone's head must roll. 

Recently, in an article in Outside Online, Christine Yu complained about a New York Times newsletter that landed in her inbox in which Mathew Futterman, a journalist previously called out after writing about female athletes, committed the heinous crime of suggesting an Olympic athlete looked like "a sprite." Often, these types of articles, tweets, or public comments condemning others who dare discuss body composition or size of female athletes end up being the spark in deciding whom the self-righteous should bully or cancel next. In this particular case, the New York Times responded to one blog post on the topic with the following statement: 

"We aim in our sports coverage to cover male and female athletes accurately, equally and fairly. We believe sometimes their physiques are relevant to their performance. In this case, our description of cross country skier Jessie Diggins’s noticeably different physical attributes in contrast to others in her sport were an important and relevant detail."

In her article, Yu ponders who decides what the norm is when it comes to how an athlete's body should look, but Futterman's article praising the young skier was pointing to the differences he perceived in body type, not claiming one or the other was necessarily ideal for the sport. In the end, Diggins is incredibly intelligent when it comes to protecting her recovery from an eating disorder and takes the right steps to make sure she's not affected by what others say by not reading comments made about her. It's more other people who were offended on her behalf, though she did make a statement when asked about Futterman's comment by saying, “To be honest, I don’t read things written about me and I think that’s a very, very healthy thing. But it’s unfortunate with Rule 40 that you can’t see the invisible headgear sponsor that is there at all times for me.” The logo on her headgear is that of the Emily Program, a company that raises awareness about eating disorders and recovery.

I understand how someone like Jessie Diggins, who suffered from an eating disorder, might be more sensitive to comments about size and think those in the media should be aware of how certain comments can come across, but I also understand that it’s common for people with the same mental illness that I also struggled with to internalize neutral comments or even compliments in a negative way. I used to assume anyone who told me I looked good, strong, or healthy actually meant, "You look fat." If anyone said I look thin, it also made me uncomfortable, but it's not on others to fix my unhealthy response to those trying to be observant, honest or, in some cases, kind. It took a lot of work before I could tolerate hearing any comments about my looks or size and not react in an unhealthy way. That's what recovery takes, though, because there will always be triggers in the world. It's important to know that there's an enormous difference between actual negative, hurtful comments and descriptive ones, but those of us with eating and body issues have to be prepared to deal with either without resorting to self-harm. 

The running community seems to be all about learning how to improve our internal dialogue, except when it comes to female athletes. In that case, it's everyone else who must change to accommodate our fragile state. The media must walk on eggshells, and with one misstep, certain observers are just waiting to pounce and complain if the perceived insult is directed at a woman. In a perfect world, nobody would say anything anyone else considers offensive, but to suggest this only happens to women or is somehow worse when it does is misleading. 

Yu continues her complaint by suggesting that Futterman's comments below undermine Diggins's achievement and insults a large swath of women, "both those who have 'massive shoulders and thighs' and those who don't."

“In a sport that has so many women with massive shoulders and thighs, Diggins looks like a sprite in her racing suit...And it’s not clear exactly where she gets her power.”

The author of the Outside article seems to be suggesting that certain women have massive shoulders and thighs, but we're not supposed to say anything about it, and don't ever say a female athlete is lean, small, or tiny. For the record, something similar has been said about Roger Federer being smaller than his opponents, but nobody complained or made a fuss. It's a double standard. "Body talk" is off-limits when it comes to announcers commenting on women's sports, but they can say or write pretty much anything in reference to a man. I don't think that suggesting someone's shoulders and thighs are "massive" is the best way to describe anyone's body, but how does this or comparing the different-sized bodies in a race undermine the winner's achievement? It seems the more the conversation steers toward dictating what others can and can't say, the more it takes away from the sport. In fact, with these complaints, notice how the conversation was steered away from Diggins's racing and toward her body instead. 

In the article, Yu claims that "In 2021, a study in the British Journal of Sports Medicine found that comments about an athlete’s body and diet, even seemingly innocuous ones, can lay the foundation for disordered eating and eating disorders," but the study that consisted of "29 current and former female NCAA DI female distance runners" focused on the dynamic between coach and athlete, not comments in general. In fact, the conclusion states, "Sport body image ideals and the power dynamic between coach and athlete may contribute to female athlete’s risk of disordered eating and body image disturbance." Yu may be correct in her assumption about comments about body ideals in sports in general, but she’s misrepresenting what the study addresses. We are not privy to the kinds of comments the coaches made to the 29 runners or whether the findings apply outside of the coach-athlete dynamic.

The solution isn't to complain about something that will probably never change or to stubbornly cling to black and white thinking by saying all body talk relating to female athletes should be banned. People have opinions and have the right to express them, so demanding a shutdown on free speech isn't the answer. What would be more beneficial is to teach those who struggle with self-image how to deal with or ignore comments they interpret as harmful or negative. Diggins has the right approach when she ignores comments she believes will be upsetting. I have so much respect for her as an athlete and a human being. 

The reality is that social media does far more damage than any article that mentions how a female athlete looks. How others talk about themselves, publicly treat their bodies, and how they relate to food (constantly joking about eating too much or having to work off what they eat or drink) can have a profoundly negative effect on others. Quite often, the same people who like to point this out, don't show any sign of reducing their time spent on sites like Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, and Facebook, as if not being susceptible teenagers themselves protects them and others from the detrimental comparisons that a constant flood of filtered, doctored, and edited images and online content causes.