School has been back in session for two weeks and I have already been reminded of how difficult it can be to continue healthy behaviors as a student. Having 8:30 am classes discourages me from getting up early to exercise (working out in the morning is my preference). Unhealthy (but inexpensive) food options on campus provide fast and tempting meals that only aid in stopping the grumbling in my stomach temporarily. 

So what do I do?

First, I remind myself that eating one slice of pizza or skipping a day of working out wont destroy all the good work I've done for my body this summer. Getting fit and healthy is not an overnight process and neither is becoming overweight and weak.

Next, I think of ways I can incorporate physical activity into my routine without having to wake up early when I am too tired. Walking from class to class rather than taking the bus is one way I get extra steps during the day. The university also offers group fitness classes which are fun and keep me moving for 45 minutes to an hour. I register for these classes once or twice a week and since there are penalties for not attending these classes, I am motivated to attend so that I don't lose my gym privileges.

I make sure to get a good breakfast every morning and I try to pack a sandwich or at least an apple and some Wheat Thins so that I have something to snack on between classes; this way I'm less likely to buy unhealthy foods throughout the day. 

When I have time to cook, like today, I make sure to cook enough to last 2-3 meals so that I'll have dinner for the following few nights. Today I cooked rice and ground beef with salad and a banana on the side. I'm not  a very good cook but I am able to make decent meals that I enjoy and that have some nutritional value.

Last week consisted of me eating a lot of unhealthy meals due to time constraints but now that I'm getting into the flow of things and have restocked my fridge, I am able to eat foods that are good for me and give me the energy to get through the day. This will be a good week.

The other day I was wondering why my dad has never encouraged me to do sports or put effort into maintaining a fit and healthy lifestyle. Then I remembered a critical piece of information: my dad was not raised in the U.S. so he experienced little, if any, social pressure to be fit.

I came to live in the U.S. when I was three years old but I have been back to my home country (the Dominican Republic) at least half a dozen times since then. When I visit, I have limited access to things that I take for granted in the U.S., such as 24-hour electricity, cable, cars, internet, and air conditioning. In the U.S., television and the internet are my main sources of information on health and fitness so I can only imagine how limited this information is to the people who live in the poor villages, like my own grandmother, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

When I’ve visited the Dominican Republic, I have never seen a gym or fitness center, running shoes, workout clothes, a nutrition store like Vitamin Shoppe, or anything remotely fitness related. Occasionally I’ve  seen kids on old or broken-looking bikes. And a helmet? Not a single one, even on motorcyclists (motorcycles are one of the main forms of transportation over there; people even offer rides for money, similar to a taxi). The topic of fitness has never come up between my contemporary cousins and me, nor do they care about portion control, calorie content, fat content, or any of the things in food that I worry about. But I don’t blame them because I’ve never gone a day of my life without access to food and I know that they, sadly, cannot say the same. 

My life abroad, which I only have to experience for one to two weeks every two years, is similar to what my father (and mother)  knew growing up. When you have to share a limited amount of food with fourteen other siblings (my mother) or have to wait for money from your mother who’s in another country (my father), eating healthy isn’t important because all that matters is the fact that you have SOMETHING to eat. The next day you may not be as blessed, so you are only grateful for what you have in the moment.  Things like cardiovascular disease or diabete are not on your radar.

I have never experienced that sort of struggle, even before I moved to the U.S., and I’m really lucky for that. I’ve grown up in a different environment altogether and I have access to information that my cousins could not even dream of having, so I can learn.

But my dad grew up a differently; it’s probably harder for him to think about health and fitness because he’s never had to. (Old habits die hard, remember?) I think a part of him is just glad that he’s always been able to give us food so he encourages me to eat all my food because that’s what his experience tells him, even though he knows that I will have food the next day, unlike him when he was growing up.

As I transitioned from a teen into a young adult, I felt like I was the one teaching my parents about making healthy choices, rather than the other way around. I would comment on the food at the dinner table and would lecture my dad on why it’s important for him to go to the doctor and for a checkup. I don’t know if my annoying comments influenced him at all but I think he and my mom have learned a thing or two about the importance of being healthy. My mother has recently bought a gym membership and tries to go to the gym at least twice a week. My father has stopped buying my younger sister McDonald’s whenever she asks for it. I don’t know if that will ever change but until he makes me stop, I’ll keep exposing him to a different, healthier lifestyle.

For as long as I can remember, my parents have encouraged me to eat all the food on my plate. As a child, I had no choice but to listen, otherwise I would get scolded for not “eating well.”.My dad would tell me that if I didn’t eat all my food, I wouldn’t grow, or get smarter, or get prettier. But what he didn’t tell me was that as an adult, eating a whole plate of food is not always the best choice.

I know my parents had the best intentions in mind, but they never really prepared me for the consequences of eating everything in front of me as I became a teenager and now a young woman. As a kid, I had never considered myself fat or overweight until I got to high school. I had joined marching band sophomore year of high school and had dropped 15 pounds in the summer. Parents and friends that I hadn’t seen in a while commented on how much “better” I looked, which confused me because I always thought I looked fine. I wasn’t the strongest or fastest in P.E., but no one ever made fun of my weight so I figured I was normal. And then I started looking at old middle school pictures. At that point, it was easy to understand why they were commenting on how I looked; I was clearly overweight, though far from being obese. As I got a little older and matured, I realized that my habits had to change. I started putting less food on my plate but then my dad would scold me for not eating enough. He’s tall and naturally thin so I think he sometimes forgot that even though he didn’t gain weight from overeating, I didn’t inherit those genes, and therefore would gain weight. I never starved myself because I’ve always understood that that does more damage than good, but I had more portion control and tried (and mostly failed) to be more physically active.

It wasn’t until I got to college that having a healthy lifestyle became easier. Now that I could make my own meals, I could experiment with different foods and make choices about what I like, rather than eat what my parents thought I should be eating (I’ve always been a bit of a picky eater so their food choices for me weren’t always what I wanted to eat). I had easy access to a gym and I got additional physical activity by just walking to class. I also joined a dance group at the university and took dance for credit too, and those extra activities really helped me maintain my weight the first year. It wasn’t easy though, especially with all the free pizza constantly being given away on campus, but I managed. Going into my second year, I got lazy and started acquiring some bad eating habits again but I’m getting away from that and getting back on track.

Whenever I talk to my dad on the phone he asks me whether I’m eating properly and I always say yes. Since my cooking skills aren’t all that great I think he has a hard time believing me but he’s more accepting now of my food choices. My eating habits have been 20 years in the making and his have been going on for almost 48 years, so I understood that it’ll take some time until he understands that my food choices are not bad ones. He just wants what’s best for me. And for now, I’m just grateful that he cares.