I don't know how it happened, but it did. One day I just... decided. And I changed. And it stuck. The past three and a half months have been filled with challenge, determination, learning, disappointment, excitement, and satisfaction. Today, my life is very different than it ever has been.
I'm not sure I ever felt skinny before this summer. Actually, I'm pretty certain that I never did. Even when I was young I was the biggest of most, if not all, of my friends. It didn't bother me too much though; I wasn't overweight, I just wasn't as petite as they were. However, I should have taken a hint when they stopped growing and I didn't.
While my buddies stayed active and slender, I slowly but steadily gained weight. I quit taking dance lessons when I was 16, eliminating pretty much the only form of exercise I had been doing. I went to college a couple years later, and although I didn't gain the "freshman 15" right away, it did begin to creep up on me. Late night Sheetz runs, unlimited access to the cafeteria, ice cream social events - and the list goes on! Then, during my junior year of college, I studied abroad in South Africa for a semester. It was the experience of a lifetime - filling my soul with joy, my heart with love, my mind with knowledge... and my stomach with food. Lots of it. I also had my first alcoholic drink in South Africa, which opened the door to a whole new way of socializing with friends.
Over the course of 5 years, I had gained around 20 pounds. Ouch.
I was used to a certain way of living. If I was hungry and something looked tasty, I would eat it. Even if I wasn't hungry and something yummy was in front of me, I would eat it. I had absolutely no concept of self-control, and I honestly didn't care how many calories something had as long as it was delicious. Oh, and I hated exercising. It was uncomfortable and hard! It made me hot, sweaty, and sore. Where was the fun in that? Being active was not my thing. I would much rather sit and eat a big bowl of extra-cheesy pasta with a tall glass of cold whole milk. Or german chocolate cake with buttercream icing. Or a BBQ bacon burger with french fries.
Oh. My. Word. I'm just going to stop thinking about all that now, before I crawl to the closest restaurant for a chili-cheese dog.
Moving on.
Sure, I had my ups and downs just like anyone else. Some days I would look in the mirror and think, "Curves! Me likey!"Other days, my best option was to slouch around in a hoodie, trying very hard to ignore how tight my jeans felt. I justified my weight by telling myself it's normal to be a little chunky. No big deal! Besides, if I lost weight I would just have to buy new clothes - that's expensive. If I tried dieting I wouldn't be able to eat the food I love - and I loved food (still do). If I started exercising I would have to endure miserable agony multiple times a week. Ugh.
Every now and then I would decide that I needed to "get fit." I didn't even want to call it "losing weight" because I didn't want to admit that I felt fat. Regardless of what I called it, my attempts never worked because I only stuck to them for maybe two weeks at the most. With no plan, no concrete goals, and no direction, I failed. Over and over again. Then, for whatever reason, inspiration hit me. "Today is the day," I told myself, "... this is it!" So I went downstairs and announced to my parents that I wanted to lose 30 pounds this summer.
Accountability. That's the first building block.
With my mom as my guide, I began my journey towards a skinnier me. But since then, it's become about a lot more than that.
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