My highest weight was probably about 230-ish, but I started this journey at 225. I wasn’t a fat child, but I started packing on the pounds in middle school. As I got bigger I could feel myself disappearing even more. I’m sick of feeling like I’m hiding from the world. I’m 19, and I’ll be 20 in a little over a month, so it’s time for me to really start living.
I’ve never been good with follow through on anything. Like almost everyone else who has tried to lose weight, I’ve done it many times. I stuck with a plan for probably about 5 weeks last summer, and barely lost any weight. That is easily explained by the fact that I was constantly cheating and rationalizing bad behavior, but I convinced myself that it was just impossible for me to lose weight. Now I know it’s not. Everything is different this time. It’s almost as if everything has fallen into place at the exact same time. My eating is on point, I exercise and I don’t see it as a burden. Every morning I wake up a little happier and a little more me. As cheesy as it sounds this journey is really about losing the weight and finding myself. I lost her a long time ago, and every pound I lose, and every mile I run brings me a little closer to her.