Before and After

Me, at the British Museum in London, June 2009. The "after." Sorry, no before--I'm not sharing that much...

In the past few years I've gone through a ton of fitness phases. There were my less-than-stellar high school years (one big stint on the couch), and freshman year of college (the occasional gym trip... VERY occasional.) I was not a fit person. Not at all.

I don't tend to get super-personal on this blog, but this story is relevant so here I go.

I was always a chubby kid-- nothing too bad, though. I've been taller than everyone my age since...well, since I was born, so a few extra pounds weren't awful. But by my junior year of high school I was carrying 225lbs on my 5'11" frame. I wasn't obese, but I was definitely overweight and definitely unhappy with myself.

Senior year of high school I flirted with diet and exercise and dropped about thirty pounds, but gained half of it back when I stopped and slipped into my old habits.

Then the spring of my freshman year of college, something changed. I don't know what snapped inside of me, but when I try to put it into words it goes like this: "I am unhappy with my body. I can either a) learn to live with it, or b) change it."

So I changed it.

I stopped thinking about eating as something to do when I was bored and started thinking about it as a way to fuel myself to do better, think clearer, be healthier. I ate slowly, learned how to distinguish between "satisfied" and "too full," learned when I was actually hungry, all of those things some people are born knowing. I learned about my body and about myself. I realized that I control what goes in my mouth and how it makes me move, how it makes me feel.

And those things are essential.

From the spring of freshman year (2008) to the winter of sophomore year I lost 50lbs. Fifty. Five-zero. In the summer I hit the gym five times a week, and by the time school rolled around I was going for at least three days.

And not that I put a lot of my self-worth into my jeans size, but finding extra-tall size 14 pants is tricky business. So when I found myself no longer in 14's but rather in size 6's I could hardly believe it.

But I was so proud. And I still am. I see photos of myself from younger years and can hardly remember how it felt. The figure I have now feels like the one I've had all along--I'm so comfortable with myself. And being just shy of six feet tall means that when I tell people I used to be on the not-so-slim end of the spectrum they say, "Wow. You just look like one of those people who was born tall and lanky."

My whole life is different. I'm a card-carrying vegetarian, I love the gym, I do yoga and pilates when I can, I love to cook, I never drink soda and hardly touch coffee. (I do, however, still love ice cream.)

I know that when people are in their 20's they feel like they'll be young and fit forever. I know that I'm not always going to look the same, but I feel like making those changes so early on will make it that much easier to lead a long, healthy life.

I'm not writing this to brag. Maybe to pat myself on the back, sure, but not to brag. Because I don't believe that becoming the person you were meant to be requires boasting. You just... are. You exist in a world that seems like it's always been there. You see the same person in the mirror that you see in your head.

It's a beautiful feeling.

What about you, readers in the blogosphere? Have you ever had a life-changing series of events with your health or weight? Tell me about them.