“3, 2, 1 Go!” Everyone ran around the dirt track. Mrs. ApplePie, our P.E. teacher, told us to run one mile, and I started running as fast as an ostrich. I wasn’t the type who loved running even though it would make me skinner. But that day, I decided to actually try. After one-fifth of a mile, people started passing me by. I looked behind myself to see if anyone was catching up to me, but no one was there as I slowed to a walk to catch my breath. I finished the mile in twice the time it took everyone else.

When I was ten, I was chubby. I kind of looked like a panda. I was lazy, soft, round, and big. At school, I would eat two lunches. For dinner, I would eat twenty pieces of chicken or four bowls of ramen. My jeans didn’t fit me right; they were too tight and made me feel like a big cat in a small cage. Instead of playing outside, I wanted to sleep in my bed or sit on the couch playing video games and eating chips and ice cream. Every day at school, I would hold my stomach in to look skinner. Before school started, I asked my friends if I looked any thinner, but as usual, they still told me I was fat.

At church, the old ladies would pinch my cheeks and say, “Oh, you’re so chubby and cute!” But, I felt embarrassed, and wanted to run away. When my classmates invited me to their swim parties, I always declined, saying that I had too much homework. When my mom forced me to go to the pool, I wore a shirt to cover my big jelly belly. I just wanted to be skinny like my brother. I hated looking at my reflection in the mirror, where all I saw was a big panda.

My family started to notice that my heart was broken; I always felt and looked gloomy and miserable. They didn’t know what was wrong; to them, I was perfectly normal. My mom always said, “Don’t worry; you are going to grow taller and lose the weight.” But, I was too depressed to listen. One day at school, I noticed a flyer for soccer club. I knew if I joined, I would get off the couch and start looking like a healthy person rather than a panda. I had played in Korea and loved the sport. My dad let me sign up, and I began preparing for tryouts.


When tryouts came around, I tried to get on the B team (the medium team); I knew I was too fat to even try for the A team (the best team). When the coaches placed me on the D team (the worst team), I felt happy, but knew I wanted to try out for the B team the following year. I kept working hard on the D team, not giving up and trying my best to make the A team. When time passed, I was getting better every single day at passing the ball, shooting, and fitness. When I was finished with my soccer practice, I would always go to my room and turn on the laptop to watch soccer skills, bloopers, tutorial on how to do skills, shots, passes, and etc, and other good stuff. I was so addicted to soccer that I didn’t even concentrate with my weight. This one day, I was so ecstatic that I would lend some of my gummy bears to my friends. I finally made into the B team! I was celebrating with my family. I decided to work much harder to get to the A team. That was my goal. When I trained hard, worked my hardest in the B team, I could’ve now run a mile in 6 minutes flat. Putting all that aside, one day, I saw someone who was skinnier than a panda, and tall in the mirror. I didn’t even recognize that face. He was like Tom Cruise (The Mission Impossible dude). I pinched my cheeks if this was a dream or not. This was a reality and now I’m officially a skinny boy!