Creative Writing: Chocolate Chip Cookie

Don’t do it. Don’t you dare eat that cookie, I chastised myself. It’s over 140 calories, contains at least five grams of fat, and chock full of carbohydrates—probably not trash you need in your body (but).
But, I reasoned with myself, you want a taste…one cookie won’t sabotage your diet. And just one excuse later, I had become a goner. I frantically ripped open the blue, crinkly package of Betty Crocker’s Chocolate Chip Cookie and proceeded to take an enormous bite. The mouthwatering aroma that flooded my nostrils, the chew of the buttery dough against my teeth, the rich melt of the chocolate chips on my tongue: this was pure, unadulterated happiness that I could hold in my hands. However, in three seconds, this fleeting and unfulfilling happiness

had been scarfed down by me—a four-foot ten, thirteen-year-old girl weighing 175 lbs.
Indeed, I had tucked myself into the pantry again. Hitherto, there existed a void in my life that I had compensated with food instead of an active life. During gym class, my distinct skill was being quicker than all my classmates at running…out of breath. My dilemma: there was a (literal) weight holding me back, like I had been thrown into deep, viscous, and impenetrable mud without boots or equipment. Powerless. Alas, it was the summer before my freshman year that I realized that gorging on palatable treats had zilch worth. I knew all too well that I was responsible for damaging my health, my mind, my sanctuary.
So, I decided to reevaluate my lifestyle and embrace change.

I fought. One of my paramount decisions was breaking up with one of my closest friends. Yes! The scale and I were and no longer are buddies (she was such a tool, anyways). Instead, I pursued the following: a camera, a new group of genuine friends (we vowed to do the “freshman 15” backwards), and undoubtedly, resolve and perseverance. To be frank, when I first initiated my weight loss, I couldn’t distinguish the difference between “cardio” and “calorie”. Thus, while my family and friends rallied my decision to lose weight, I cultivated a keenness and curiosity for health and nutrition. I read a myriad of articles analyzing metabolism, body fat, muscle mass, BMI, etc.,; researched diet decisions such as choosing whole grain, low-fat, high-fiber foods, and limiting red meat; and, experimented with exercises that I grew to love. Eventually, I abandoned foods that contained additives I couldn’t pronounce and traded it with real meals that I organized for breakfast, lunch, and dinner (unfortunately, I had to fire my mom as my official lunch-packer). From time to time, I jogged with my dad. As I indulged myself with a new novel or studied for chemistry, I would squeeze in a few squats. Every few months, I snapped a picture of my progress and shared it with my fitness friends. Finally, on May 11, 2015, my megawatt smile had confirmed that I had successfully loss 65.4 pounds. One month later, a transformation picture of me

was featured on an app in the Apple Store.
Without doubt, my fitness journey was anything but linear. There were times when I hit the dreaded plateaus and days when all I yearned was to quit and eat everything in sight; nevertheless, regardless of the short-lived setbacks, after I satisfied my daily servings of grumbling and groaning, I also ensued to fulfill my daily servings of vegetables, physical activity, and quality time with my closest people. I acknowledge that there are people my age that have high metabolisms and are naturally thin. I am not one of them. But I am passionate, driven, and independent. I can convince my friends to switch to whole grain brown rice. I can do twelve pushups in a row. I can make my little brother laugh. And of course, I can make cognizant choices, like taking a crisp, fragrant, and nourishing apple over a Betty Crocker’s Chocolate Chip Cookie.