Every step feels nostalgic. Each curl seems comfortably familiar.
Two years ago, I lost all my unwanted weight—and a lot of it. I dedicated countless free, post-tenth-period hours to jogging, squatting, lifting and a whole slew of other workouts I barely knew the name of.
I was a senior in high school—acting on a sort of unofficial New Year’s resolution—and I was determined to lose my snack-prompted muffin top and baby fat-filled belly before stepping foot on my newfound collegiate stomping grounds. Needless to say, I was 17, insecure and motivated by a want for normalcy.
I’ve never been abnormally overweight, just a few cellulite ripples and loose skin here and there. I’m a human which, in turn, entails imperfection. Regardless, my youthful self catered to my own unfair standards before considering a more rational possibility: healthy weight loss.
As far as my senior-year self was concerned, college would be met with nothing other than abs and muscle definition. It was a stark contrast from my chubby freshman year introduction four years prior—and that made the idea of losing weight all-the-more thrilling.
With the months counting down and the calories stacking up, I cut out anything with mild flavor from my diet—leaving me in the bland world of crouton-less salads and raw veggies. In essence, I had found myself addicted to the idea of perfection—even though most would agree peek-a-boo ribs and bony arms aren’t exactly desirable.
At 18-years-old—standing around 6’1"—I was a mere 165 pounds. It seemed nothing short of impressive to me, though. Body fat had become the enemy and occasional indulgences just weren’t an option.
Entering college, I was thankful to have found myself at the pinnacle of my faulty feat; however, I wasn’t thankful finding out the “freshman 15” can be, for some, the freshman “45.” Even more so, I wasn’t pleased to discover that weight gain isn’t isolated to the fast-paced freshman lifestyle. Each semester I advanced in the collegiate cycle meant facing temptation head on.
Well, I faced the temptation head on with nothing but acceptance for it. After countless stress-relieving calls to Dominos and 2 a.m. Doritos binges, my body felt more than unattractive. It felt unhealthy.
Although my prior weight-loss efforts were grounded in a want to look “ideal”—with washboard, Zac Efron abs and a jawline that could cut the rock-hard broccoli I was eating—my new motive came from a much more holistic place.
For the first time in forever, I wanted to be healthy. Not hunky, just happy and healthy.
My desire for a change in lifestyle stemmed from the guilt I felt from gaining weight. This time, though, it wasn’t the physical weight gain that upset me. Rather, my loss of motivation was the real cause of my distress.
Even if my prior weight-loss efforts weren’t the healthiest, I was still genuinely proud of the motivation that went into every agonizing abdominal workout and searing cardio routine. I had broken an all-too-comfortable pattern of childhood laziness my senior year—only to find myself, two years later, craving that same feeling of accomplishment.
Some say there’s an easy solution to this “trivial” problem: “Get back to the gym, hop on a treadmill and lose the weight.” Well, it’s not that easy—at all, really.
Committing to a daily life of physical activity means committing to a daily life of healthy eating. Despite my prior notion that “healthy eating” was synonymous with lightly snacking on carrot sticks and wilted salads, I had to retrain myself to not over-obsess. And that’s the hardest part of all.
While I knew how to workout, I had to redefine my understanding of dieting. I re-trained myself—with my ambitions now set on pleasing my own body, instead of others’ minds.
Excessive calorie counting went out the window and so did my feeling that starvation commences weight loss' initiation. I began eating healthy, running and responsibly lifting because, well, my body loved it. Still, though, I saw an undeniable visual change in my frame.
What I’m saying is that being healthy should be everyone’s weight loss motivation. We have one body for this one life we're given, so why not take care of it? Starving and straining might expedite the weight loss process, but it’s just not an effective lifestyle change.
Entering the world of dining hall temptations and weekend mischief, the faulty weight loss ideas I had seem to always fall through. Through failing bad habits and the embracing of healthier outlooks, I learned that "healthy" really is long term while obsession is short lived.
