Camp Heavyweights

My love of food and eating began at an early age. Our photo albums depict several pictures of me with my face inside the bowl, licking the brownie batter. In home videos, my mom reminds me that Halloween candy is not to be eaten all in one night. There are also pictures of me taking out every single can and box in the pantry and lying them on the floor. I guess that was my idea of fun back then.

Today I was reminded of my atypical preoccupation with food as a kid. I attended a soccer clinic with the Boston Breakers as part of my new internship. Luckily I did not have to participate in the clinic itself, but one could easily have been deceived, as my shirt was drenched through with sweat. Standing out in middle of the field with no shade, I was baking as sweat dripped out of every gland on my body. On the brink of heat exhaustion, I wondered how in the world these little kids were actually running around and playing soccer in the heat. How can this possibly be fun for them? And then I remembered...it is NOT fun. At least it was not for me when I was a kid.

I used to HATE going to summer camps, especially those that involved sports. My mom had to actually bribe my sister and I with little gag gifts to stick out the 3 hours a day at camp. I always hated running around, getting sweaty, being dirty. I was never athletic or competitive, so I never fared well in tag, kickball, or capture the flag. Besides going home at the end of the day, my favorite part of camp were the popsicles at snack break. As a kid, my idea of summer fun was going to Dairy Queen for Blizzards, or baking cookies in the comfort of AC. I was not an active, outdoorsy kid.

My love of food and the indoors definitely showed in my youth. I had quite a large belly and beefy cheeks. My short bobbed haircut and love for flashy Limited Too clothes did not do well to hide my plump figure. But it never once crossed my mind that maybe I should've sweat out those Blizzards on the soccer field. I was chubby and happy. I didn't care if all the cool kids were playing soccer, I liked to eat.

Well not much has changed. I still look forward to DQ Blizzards like an 8 year old, and I would still much rather read a book inside than sweat through my shorts on the soccer field. Thankfully, I now exercise regularly and shed the Santa belly and cheeks through puberty. But in my heart, I am still the same fat kid. Just waiting to eat my next meal or dying to eat all the Halloween candy.