Trying to lose weight? You are not alone.
When I was a kid, for whatever reason my metabolism worked slower than other people's. It didn't help that I particularly enjoyed the taste and sensation of chocolate, particularly chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. It didn't help that I was picked on a lot at school, which only made my self esteem drop even lower, thus making it harder for me to get the momentum necessary to start shedding some weight.
When I was 15, I weighed over two hundred pounds and stood about 5'8. I was too heavy, I wheezed when I ran, and most of my clothes were painfully undersized. To buy larger clothes would mean I would have to admit to myself about my problem.
I was a miserable and depressed high school kid. I didn't have a girlfriend, had never even so much as held a girl's hand, and could barely hold conversations with other people due to a crippling shyness that I didn't break out of for a couple more years yet.
After sophomore year came and went, with no real change to my life, I felt the need to make a change. I was tired of being ashamed of wearing tight clothes, I was ashamed at the way my chest looked in a white t-shirt. I was ashamed, most of all, of being me.
I envisioned what it would be like to be thin. I imagined relaxing at my parents' kitchen table, looking out the window, sipping on a bottle of water and breathing in deep fresh Spring air, and feeling that certain pride that only comes with deciding your own fate in a positive way.
I quit eating desserts and snacks and no longer drank a soda a day. Whenever I felt cravings for a cola or something deliciously chocolate, I thought about the fantasy I just mentioned. I kept track of the number of days since I last ate dessert. And at last, I started to feel pride. When the time came to pick what we wanted to do in gym class at school, I picked the weight room. I exercised at home on top of the hour I spent in gym class.
And slowly but surely, I began to lose weight. I dropped from 216 pounds to 155 pounds over the span of six or seven months - an enormous amount of weight to shed in such a short time. And I was proud of myself for doing it. I was proud of being the master of my own fate. I was proud, because kids at school had one less thing to pick on me about.
They started to pick on me for being too skinny. Oh well, can't win them all, as the saying goes. I felt healthy and strong for the first time in my life, and nothing could burst that bubble.
When I was a kid, for whatever reason my metabolism worked slower than other people's. It didn't help that I particularly enjoyed the taste and sensation of chocolate, particularly chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. It didn't help that I was picked on a lot at school, which only made my self esteem drop even lower, thus making it harder for me to get the momentum necessary to start shedding some weight.
When I was 15, I weighed over two hundred pounds and stood about 5'8. I was too heavy, I wheezed when I ran, and most of my clothes were painfully undersized. To buy larger clothes would mean I would have to admit to myself about my problem.
I was a miserable and depressed high school kid. I didn't have a girlfriend, had never even so much as held a girl's hand, and could barely hold conversations with other people due to a crippling shyness that I didn't break out of for a couple more years yet.
After sophomore year came and went, with no real change to my life, I felt the need to make a change. I was tired of being ashamed of wearing tight clothes, I was ashamed at the way my chest looked in a white t-shirt. I was ashamed, most of all, of being me.
I envisioned what it would be like to be thin. I imagined relaxing at my parents' kitchen table, looking out the window, sipping on a bottle of water and breathing in deep fresh Spring air, and feeling that certain pride that only comes with deciding your own fate in a positive way.
I quit eating desserts and snacks and no longer drank a soda a day. Whenever I felt cravings for a cola or something deliciously chocolate, I thought about the fantasy I just mentioned. I kept track of the number of days since I last ate dessert. And at last, I started to feel pride. When the time came to pick what we wanted to do in gym class at school, I picked the weight room. I exercised at home on top of the hour I spent in gym class.
And slowly but surely, I began to lose weight. I dropped from 216 pounds to 155 pounds over the span of six or seven months - an enormous amount of weight to shed in such a short time. And I was proud of myself for doing it. I was proud of being the master of my own fate. I was proud, because kids at school had one less thing to pick on me about.
They started to pick on me for being too skinny. Oh well, can't win them all, as the saying goes. I felt healthy and strong for the first time in my life, and nothing could burst that bubble.