“I learned to hate my body in the sport I loved”

Mia Lerner, Founder of Project Unlaced, on how harmful advice about fueling and body size represents a fundamental failure of duty of care in sport

TW: Mention of disordered eating and RED-S

I started swimming at seven years old, not because I was fast or had Olympic dreams, but because I was a kid searching for connection. Before long, swimming became my anchor. It gave me structure and a place to let go of everything that felt heavy outside the water.

For a long time, sport gave me everything I needed. And then, slowly, it became the place where I learned to hate my body. 

In sport, we often celebrate discipline, control, and sacrifice. Coaches and teammates praise the athletes who push through pain and do the hard things. But there is a line where dedication turns into disorder. Unfortunately, that line is too often blurred or ignored.

When the COVID-19 pandemic hit in 2020, the structure that had always grounded me disappeared overnight. Pools closed and routines vanished. In an attempt to regain control, I turned my attention inward. What started as small “healthy” changes turned into rigid rules and obsessive exercise. 

I was barely 11 years old. 

“Coaches and medical professionals encouraging unhealthy weightloss and fueling habits are failing in their duty of care to athletes. ”

No one had taught me about eating disorders or Relative Energy Deficiency in Sport (REDs). No one had explained that underfueling could damage my health and athletic future. This is a common experience. In sport, disordered behaviors are often normalized or even rewarded. Comments about weight and body shape are framed as performance advice. Athletes are told, explicitly or implicitly, that thinner means faster and success requires shrinking yourself. 

This is a form of maltreatment. Coaches and medical professionals encouraging unhealthy weightloss and fueling habits are failing in their duty of care to athletes. 

Food policing, the harmful comments about food and our bodies, and the lack of education all send a powerful message: our body is the problem to be fixed. For young athletes, especially those still developing physically and emotionally, these messages can be devastating. 

In my case, the warning signs were there. I lost weight rapidly. I withdrew. I exercised compulsively and ate a strict diet. Instead of raising red flags, coaches and teammates complemented my dedication and shrinking body. Even at a routine doctor’s appointment, my weight loss was praised. These moments reinforced the belief that I was doing something right: that suffering equaled success.

A few weeks later, I was hospitalised. 

I spent a week in the hospital connected to machines and unable to walk. Recovery did not end when I was discharged. In many ways, that was when the hardest work began. 

I had to learn how to eat, rest, and move without fear. I had to confront beliefs that sport culture had helped shape: that my worth was tied to productivity, that rest was something to earn, and that my body could not be trusted. 

For months, I wasn’t allowed to participate in sports. At first, it felt like losing a piece of myself. But that pause forced me to reckon with a hard truth: a system that harms athletes in the name of performance is not a system built for long-term success or wellbeing. 

Eating disorders and REDs do not happen in a vacuum. They thrive in environments where silence is rewarded and control is mistaken for commitment. When athletes are afraid to speak up or don’t have the language to name what’s happening, harm goes unchecked. 

My recovery showed me how deeply sport culture needs to change. And this change should not just be directed at the elite level, but athletes everywhere. 

“Movement was no longer a way to punish or control my body. It became a way to reconnect with it. ”

That’s why I founded Project Unlaced. 

Project Unlaced is dedicated to untangling harmful narratives around body image, food, and performance in sport. We focus on giving athletes, parents, and coaches the tools needed to recognize red flags early and create environments that prioritize health over harm. 

We talk openly about REDs and the pressures to be perfect. We challenge the myth that thinner equals faster. We address diet culture and the ways it penetrates training spaces. 

At its core, Project Unlaced exists to remind athletes of something many of us were never told: You do not have to hurt yourself to succeed. 

When I returned to the pool and later transitioned to running, it looked different than before. Movement was no longer a way to punish or control my body. It became a way to reconnect with it. 

Sport has the power to build confidence and community. But this can only happen when athletes are protected. 

Addressing REDs, eating disorders, and body image struggles means  challenging sporting culture that prioritises winning over welfare. It means examining coaches’ training and practices. It means listening when athletes say something feels wrong. 

Athletes deserve better. Change can only begin when we stop looking away. 

If you’d like to learn more about Project Unlaced or join our mission to create healthier sport environments, visit projectunlaced.org or follow us on Instagram @project_unlaced.