I was only 16 years old and I was in my first year of Senior High track and Field. I was around 5'11 160 pounds, I was healthy and a very good runner. I decided I wanted to improve my mile times and I wanted to lose some weight. I decided to cut my calories down 4 hundred a day and tripled my workouts. Within about a month I would lost my goal of twenty pounds. But l wasn't happy with it l wanted to lose more and decided to stay on my diet a little longer l cut my calories down to 300 cals. I was working out constantly and l obsessed about weight and food. I lost 30 pounds in less than two months. I had it stuck in my head the more weight I lost the healthier I'd be. I just kept cutting it down more and more eventually, I was down to 50 calories a day. My friends were not behind me at all because well l was healthy from the start. I eventually lost most of them because I only wanted to be alone with my obsession. I could tell my coaches, friends and my dad who was the only family I had were worried about me. My dad on a daily basis would say "What's Wrong?", "Are You Okay?", and "You look Dead" were repeated everyday like a broken record. He was completely oblivious to what I was going to myself. I thought he was just trying to tell me I was thin, but in my head, I was screaming What you are talking about. I'm fat I'm worthless. The Thinner I got the more it seemed in the mirror I saw someone who was overweight, gross. I got down to 6 ft 120 pounds. My sole purpose in losing the weight was too become faster running but ironically my mile times were over a minute slower. My lowest point (Ironically also my lowest weight) was at one of my track meets. I was getting ready for the mile. For some reason that day my breathing seemed amazingly heavy compared to normal and my heart was beating so hard it felt like there was someone trying to beat out of my chest my heartbeats actually was painful. I walked over to the starting line my friend Dustin told me I was extremely pale I looked sick but I just blew him off. When the gun was fired to start the race, I collapsed to the ground my heart stopped beating, Congestive Heart Failure. I almost died that day. The E.R docs told my dad what had happened and what had caused it. I decided to come clean to my dad about everything, and he just told me he wasn't surprised. He checked me into a rehab center where I stayed for 7 months. That incident was two years ago. Everyday I still think about that and being in the hospital and seeing my dad worried about me like that. I wish I never did that to myself. I'm a senior in high school and I do still run track. However, I'm smart about my choices now. I'm 18 now I’m 6 ft 190 pounds I'm healthy and happy.