It was only last week that I realized just how far from my normal I’ve let myself go, and felt the worst I’ve ever felt about my body.
I feel awkward writing about it because by BMI standards, I am normal, I’m not close to being overweight but as someone who has been a competitive athlete most of her life, I am uncomfortable being this heavy.
My sister and I were in the car when she started talking about how I’d gotten bigger since she last saw me in May and gently reminded me to work out. What started out as normal conversation quickly turned to an emotionally charged one when I voiced out my frustrations about how I was struggling to keep fit. I’ve stopped fitting into my clothes, and don’t feel like myself. I see myself in photos and cringe. I started (ugly) crying as I explained how it’s been my goal to lose 10 pounds for the last year or so, but I just haven’t been able to. My sister was worried that the weight gain would just keep on going and going and going. The tears kept flowing as I talked about not being able to find a routine that works for me, how hard it was to eat right (ironic because I went to a health-supportive cooking school), how frustrating it is to know what to do but just not be able to do it. I guess I always brushed it aside, or rationalized that I was still feeling fine.
I grew up being passionate about two things, football and food. It balanced each other out well, since I played enough football to balance out all the food I ate. There was even a time that my coaches told me to gain weight. At that time, no matter how much I stuffed myself, I couldn’t gain a kilo. From the time I was 10 until I was 22, I had soccer practice at least thrice a week for most of the year. Football fulfilled all my fitness requirements plus had the added social interaction and self-actualization benefit.
After college, I stopped competitive football, tore my right ACL during a pick up game and took up competitive eating. That’s the short story. Once my last football trip with the Women’s National team ended, I suddenly had no more regular training to go to. College was over and I went on a long vacation where I naturally ate whatever was good, chronicling the meals in a photo album titled “This is why I’m fat”. Another thing I picked up in college was a love for drinking. There’s something about team sports and drinking to celebrate or commiserate after games/a particularly difficult season. When I started working, the eating and drinking habits continued, but no new fitness habit emerged. I would run occasionally, but never really developed into a regular runner. After work, the highlight of the night would be a good meal and drinks with friends. Football became a once or twice a week activity, something I did on Fridays and Sundays. I noticed the change in how I played- due to zero training, and unfortunately got myself injured in 2011.
That second ACL injury actually got me very conscious about what I ate so I wouldn’t pack the pounds on while unable to exercise. I did rehab on that knee, but couldn’t spend as much time on it because of work. With the first one, I was in rehab for at least three hours a day. That simply wasn’t possible anymore.
I moved to New York for school in 2012, and since then I’ve been gradually gaining inches and pounds. I always rationalized it by thinking, “Oh, I’m only in New York for a short while so I should go and try everything I can.” Harsh winters made me eat more, and stretchy leggings were forgiving. In 2013 I started culinary school, and despite it being generally healthy, I ended up eating a lot. During our baking classes, everyone probably gained at least three pounds. I was doing culinary school and business school at the same time (Crazy, I know) so I wasn’t able to carve out time to exercise. I would wake up, go to culinary school, then rush to MBA class afterwards. My husband and I planned our wedding in about 4 months, but I bought my dress while I was on the heavier side, so I also wasn’t compelled to lose the winter weight for the spring wedding.
Being married is a lot of fun because there’s always someone to eat with! It also means you eat when you’re not that hungry, but because you keep your spouse company. At least that’s my excuse. It’s hard to say no to food when it’s right there.
TLDR: I can’t fit into my clothes because I ate too much.