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Green Coffee Bean Max

Best Diet Game, least play

I’ve never been much of an athlete. In high school I was on the tennis team, but that was strictly a means to acquiring my dreaded PE credit. 

When I came to college, I almost immediately picked up smoking. My best friend did it and I found it relaxing and cool with a Parisian café nonchalance vibe. In typical college fashion I also began drinking a lot which was always followed by a large red bull the next morning to make up for my self-induced sleep deficiency.

I mean, everyone was doing it and I didn’t want to be in bed by 10:00pm with the Christian Fundamentalists. Usually these crazy college party scenes are shown in movies with a weird blue-ish black filter and ominous music in the background, but our parties weren’t like that. We didn’t feel like we were doing anything wrong. The son shone down on us and we never counted how many liquor bottles rested on top of the kitchen cabinets. 

The first summer after my first year of college, I didn’t have much to do. I was taking summer classes but, compared to my usual workload, it was nothing. I decided it would be a great time to get back in shape. 

I’ve always been naturally skinny but in no way should that be indicative of a healthy body. I dusted off my running shoes and went for a jog. Almost immediately I became winded and my thighs began to burn. I couldn’t even run a mile without feeling like I was going to die– so I gave up. 

My second year, I continued on the same path of drinking, smoking etc. It never really got in the way of my academic success so I saw no reason to stop. 

As the spring semester was winding down, I decided to take a yoga class at the rec. It was what is known as a “yin” yoga class, so it was more meditative stretching than exercise, but it made me feel great. I started going every week until they stopped offering classes at the end of the summer. Not wanting to give up my newfound love, I bought a gym membership and decided to practice there.

Unbeknownst to me (I thought yin yoga was the only type of yoga) I walked into a hot yoga class. Everything seemed familiar at first, but then the room became intensely hot. The instructor challenged me to use muscles I had forgotten about and stretch parts of my body I thought should never bend like that. About halfway through, I desperately wanted to leave. I hadn’t brought water, I was lightheaded, and my entire body was slippery with my own sweat. 

Even though it seemed like I was stretching in hell, at the end of the class I felt amazing. I looked in the mirror at my red and sweaty face and I felt reconnected to my body in a way I hadn’t been in years. I began going to yoga classes every day, sometimes twice a day, and it gave me an indescribable sense of reward. 

After about three weeks of daily hot yoga, I decided to try running again. I didn’t expect to get very far, but my attitude had been generally positive so I was feeling adventurous. 

I plugged in my headphones and started to run. I believe I’ve crafted one of the most perfect running playlists so, as I ran, I felt very connected to my music and hardly noticed my feet hitting the pavement. Eventually I got tired and stopped to check my running app to see how far I had gotten. Two miles. Two beautiful, incredible fucking miles. To runners and marathoners etc. two miles is nothing, but to the young smoker who couldn’t run a mile without passing out, I felt like I had climbed an impossible mountain and other clichés like that. 

Not only was my heart healthier, but I felt motivated to eat healthier (because nobody wants to do hot yoga on a full stomach, trust me). 

Maybe I’m not the craziest fun, drunk girl at a party anymore but I feel much more capable of getting my shit together. My work is better, my energy is higher, I feel more focused and I wouldn’t trade it. I still drink on occasion of course, but I feel like I’ve found something infinitely more rewarding, even if it makes me look like a lame old hippie. My life feels more complete… and all a few months before my 21st birthday. 

NAMASTE