The world was my oyster; I could have picked any weight that made me into a less fat bridesmaid. So how did I arrive at 135 pounds?
Well, it’s not a short story or a long one–but it’s anecdotal and worth telling if you’re into that sort of thing.
The last time I gave dieting a somewhat committed go, I was 20 and it was the summer before my junior year in college. As Jenna can tell you, I became obsessed with yogurt and oatmeal. Do not ask me why. I was working out every day, running for more than 10 minutes at a time and pumping much iron in my building’s gym. The weight that sticks in my mind is 136 lbs. I remember getting on the scale at some point that fateful summer and it told me I weighed 136 pounds. Weight-wise, that’s all I remember. (Apparently, I have dieter’s amnesia.)
But why? Why was I dieting in the first place?
Because I was leaving for Italy in September, for my semester abroad. And do you know what Italy has? Very good-looking men. And these very-good looking Italian men probably preferred a svelte bridesmaid to a fat one. Hence the running and the yogurt. I wanted to go to Italy and be the best American I could be! And that meant being a hot American.
Since 136 lbs. is my lowest weight in recent memory, why not go for gold (hello Olympics!) and sneak in just a pound below that? Et, voila: 135 pounds. Obviously, 135 is also a reasonable weight for a person of my build and height. But, gee, wasn’t that vignette much cuter than just saying the BMI told me to?