nomissnewo (nomissnewo) wrote,
nomissnewo
nomissnewo

No bad eating day goes unpunished. It was late 2005 when I dropped more than 30 pounds, a weight that had slowly crept on during my sophomore and junior year of college, and since then I've waged a near-constant war with weight gain. Sometimes I've been successful in my battles and other times not, while most often I'm locked in a bitter stalemate where I'm not exactly "fat" per se but still well above where I want to be. That's where I am now, a solid 12 to 15 pounds above my target weight; it's not that I want to be skinny, just a weight in which I feel comfortable, what I perceive to be a "normal" weight. Sometimes I voice these concerns to other people and they think I'm crazy -- it is partly a matter of perception, after all -- but I see myself in the mirror with my shirt off, I notice how the fat bunches around my waste when I'm sitting on the couch. I'm definitely not where I want to be.

Now I know I don't eat well by any stretch of the imagination. I rarely cook for myself and often eat too quickly, a habit that results in me passing my threshold for hunger before my stomach has the chance to tell my brain that it's full. But at the same time it's not as if I'm downing 4,000 calories a day; I've largely given up soda and sugary drinks and at least attempt every day to have reasonably-sized meals. If I could eat everything I wanted I'd pick up a bacon-and-egg omelet for breakfast, hit the buffet for lunch and end the day with a burger and a beer, and I don't do that -- I try my hardest to control my calorie intake with moderate success.

And I exercise a good bit. I walk to and from work every day -- a minimum of 3 miles -- and work out several times a week. I lift weights, I do yoga, I use my stationary bike at home. Once every Saturday I play ultimate frisbee, which involves sprinting up and down a field for two hours straight.

But I have my bad eating days, sometimes a couple times a week, and this is where my body is completely unforgiving. Any extra calorie just seems to navigate to my upper body, coalesce around my face, creep into my neck. My body is a well-oiled storage unit, trying to stash any ounce of fat as if I could be trapped on an abandoned island any second, foodless and forced to live off my own reserves.

I just don't know what to do. I'm 25-years-old and I don't imagine my metabolism getting any better as I age. I've pledged to myself that I won't ever give up, that I'll never let myself completely go like I did in college, but any small victory I win -- from time to time I will lose a lot of weight and hover within my comfort zone -- is only temporary, and before you know it I'm looking at tagged Facebook pictures of myself and thinking, "Do I really look that bad?" The statistics aren't exactly on my side -- most people who lose a lot of weight can rarely keep it off, and in some instances gain more weight than they lost.

I've always resisted the idea of a "diet" for this very reason. Most experts agree that if someone is to lose and keep weight off, he has to make a "lifestyle change," and this is something I've been striving for. But after 4+ years of battling my eating habits, I'm not sure this will ever be a war I can fully win.
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