Six months.
Half a year since I first decided to change.
Since I first looked in the mirror and told myself, "This is enough."
I barely recognize that old version of me anymore.
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The dumbbells that once bent my wrists like twigs now swing in my hands with control.
I used to think working out meant pushing through pain — doing as much as possible until I collapsed.
Now I knew better:
Reps. Sets. Volume. Recovery. Form.
I started writing things down.
10 reps. 3 sets. Moderate weight. Rest 60 seconds.
Push. Pull. Legs.
Back. Shoulders. Core.
What I once guessed… I now understood.
---
I drank water like it was my job — no less than 3 liters a day.
And protein?
Still a struggle.
Meat felt heavy. Eggs upset my stomach. Fish stank.
So I got smarter.
I started eating lentils and other cheap protein-rich foods daily.
I ate foods I once couldn't — things I hated before.
Now I don't hate them anymore.
I eat those very foods every day.
I mixed things into smoothies.
Tracked everything with free apps.
Cut sugar. Cut junk.
Used every cent I saved from avoiding public transport to buy things that helped — a resistance band, oats, nuts, Greek yogurt when I could.
And I walked everywhere.
Cardio, they called it.
To me, it was just survival.
---
But change doesn't come without scars.
It started with the itching.
At first, I thought it was just sweat.
Then it became unbearable — crawling sensations on my skin like I was being chewed alive.
Redness. Irritation. Dandruff exploded on my scalp like snow.
It felt like a curse.
A doctor said it was mites.
Stress, sweat, lack of care.
So once again… I adapted.
No more ignoring skin.
No more ignoring hair.
With the few coins I saved, I bought anti-dandruff shampoo, gentle cleansers, moisturizers.
It wasn't just about muscle anymore.
I wanted to look… clean.
Alive.
Worthy.
---
My weight dropped to 68 kilograms.
My height reached 5 feet 8 and a half.
When I looked in the mirror now… I stood taller.
Shoulders broader.
Jaw a little sharper.
And I didn't flinch anymore.
For once…
I liked what I saw.
---
Then one evening…
Crash.
A dumbbell slipped from my sweaty hands.
It smashed against my shin.
The pain was instant, sharp, and deep.
I gasped, dropping to my knees.
Blood.
Swelling.
Then the thought hit me like thunder:
My board exams were just weeks away.
Still dandruff.
Still skin problems.
Still not enough protein.
And now… this injury.
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I sat on the edge of my bed that night, staring at the floor.
Foot throbbing.
Mind spinning.
Chest tight.
Can I keep going?
Should I pause?
Is this where it all ends?
I felt something in the air shift.
Cold. Still. Empty.
I looked up.
And there he was.
---
The white silhouette.
The silent watcher.
Standing in the void again.
Not speaking this time.
Just watching.
Observing.
Testing.
Will I break now?
Will I give up now, when
life throws everything at me?
I clenched my fist.
No answer yet.
Not even from myself.
But deep down…
a storm was beginning to rise again.