My fitness journey (a chaotic story)

My fitness journey is a chaos. I’m in a dilemma of calling it fitness. Follow along to understand what I’m talking about.

I was an active person when I was young. With roller skating and dancing keeping me occupied, I was fit as a child could be. I would also play on the playground in the evenings nearby. I was healthy by those standards.

It changed when I moved to another place. I had to quit dancing and skating since there were no facilities in the new place. And the only park “nearby” was in fact far away. I used to cycle as well before, but the new place I was staying at wasn’t safe enough for my parents to let me cycle alone for long distances.

This doesn’t mean that I didn’t go outside. I did. I played with the neighborhood kids, but that wasn’t enough. By the time I was 11, I had gained weight that was beyond normal for an 11-year-old.

Each stair or long walk was enough to tire me and make me huff. The doctor confirmed what was soon to become my worst-hated word. I was ‘obese’. She suggested I get exercise. I tried to, but it wasn’t enough since there weren’t many options for exercise.

At school, kids noticed and poked fun at me. That didn’t matter to me because my mind wasn’t that conscious then.

Once, my school had a medical drive where doctors would come and check each student. When I saw the doctor I used to visit, I excitedly ran over to her. She again told me about my obesity. It was nothing new. But my only problem was that my classmates were all standing behind me, listening.

I could hear them snickering. My face turned into a bright shade of red. I knew what was to come next. As expected, my classmates proceeded to make fun of me.

Things took a different turn when I hit puberty. I grew taller, got slimmer, and every day walking helpedme with my weight. In looks-wise, I had control over my body again, but there was another hurdle to it.

Everywhere, be it the media I consumed or in real life, the people I saw were much slimmer than me, and that made my perception of weight and beauty narrow.

I would start being picky with food. And at times would skip it. That was the definition for me of being ‘healthy’. Being slim was healthy.

I didn’t know it at that time, but it was damaging my body. My appetite seemed to be low, and I started disliking food. Eating too much induced all the food to come back out.

I also had a habit of stopping what I once started. I started cycling again, but I had to stop because I didn’t have time to study. Instead, I did jump rope, but took a break because I was out of town, and I never continued with it. This pattern keeps repeating.

This seems like a never-ending story of my version of “healthy”. My real fitness journey started in college, where I really understood the true definition of healthy. My sister had a role in it as well.

My sister had started eating balanced food, also prompting me to eat with her. She would go on regular walks and get me up from bed as well to join her.

Since I started college again, she walks me to the bus stop. This way, we also have a bonding time. So, in a way, my fitness routine is tied to my sister. She’s the only person who can influence me into doing something.

My fitness journey consists of food that contains carbohydrates, proteins, fats, fruits, and vegetables, along with exercise and cheat meals. That way, I get to eat my favourite unhealthy foods in a controlled manner, and my mind doesn’t waver around my healthy food choices.