Wait, I think my Scale is Broken?
Snap out of it, you’ve gained weight
I have always been pretty active. Growing up, I never gave a shit about what my body looked like. I never compared myself people I saw on Instagram or even my friends. I consider myself extremely lucky that body image wasn’t something that consumed my adolescence.
In high school I played softball, probably one of the only sports where nobody gave a fuck what you looked like as long as you could throw, catch, and hit. Back then, I could (and did) eat whatever I wanted. I barely knew what a calorie was and didn’t ever glance at a nutrition label. I remember coming home from school extremely hungry and eating dumplings, bagel bites, cookies, and leftovers from the night before as a snack. Seriously, the spoils of growing metabolism. This is me the summer before my freshman year of college. I for sure had some meat on my bones, but was sorely lacking in the muscle department (probably because I had absolutely no fucking clue what I was doing in the gym).
Going into college, I heard warnings about the freshman 15 but I wasn’t actively trying to avoid it. At this point in my life I was so goddamn spoiled by being able to eat/drink whatever I wanted (I know, I hate me too). I was overwhelmed by new things including my unlimited meal plan and more alcohol than I could ever drink. I continued to eat and drink whatever I wanted which now consisted of more soda, fried food, alcohol, and late night snacks. I used to eat dinner around 6 or 7, and then go back to the dining hall for “Late Night” which ran from 9:30-midnight EVERY SINGLE DAY.
Despite all the food and drink (most damning was the food after the drink), I did not gain the freshman 15. If I had to guess, I’d say I probably put on around five pounds. In the next few years, my eating/drinking habits got worse and I continued to put on five-ten pounds a year. Since it was only a few pounds a year, I didn’t really notice until my senior year when all of sudden I weighed myself and my BMI had me in the “overweight” category.
I made so many excuses for myself. “It’s all muscle, my thyroid hormones are fucked up, birth control, I’m just bloated blah, blah, blah.” My senior year it got really bad. I constantly felt like shit. I was sluggish, sore, and like I was moving through sand whenever I tried to run. At the time, I chalked this up to stress (finding a post grad job, working part time, maintaining my grades, and trying to have somewhat of a social life — you know how it goes). It was this picture, taken the summer after I had graduated that finally woke me the fuck up when it came to my fitness and nutrition.
I started to weigh myself consistently, downloaded MyFitnessPal and lost around 25 pounds in a matter of three months. I tried my best to do it the healthy way (no crash dieting or hours of cardio here). I’ve grown so much from that person who couldn’t tell you shit about nutrition labels and who walked around the gym using all the stationary machines once before calling it a good workout.
That being said, it hasn’t been all daisies and roses. I’ve flirted with an eating disorder, managed a slight exercise obsession, and struggled with motivation. Disclaimer: I am not a trainer or a nutritionist. I am not qualified in the slightest to give any sort of advice. There are far more impressive people than me. People who train harder, people who have lost more weight, people who have done more with less time and resources. I’m just hoping to share my personal experience and some of the tips and tricks that I found helpful in hopes that at least one person might find it helpful on their journey.
Follow me on Twitter and stay tuned for some more tips and tricks to living your best and healthiest lifestyle (or at least trying to).
Until next time,
CC
