The weight of coming home to the Philippines
When I moved back to the Philippines from the States, I didn’t expect to gain as much weight as I did. But it happened: slowly, then all at once.
Night shifts drained me. Stress eating became my coping mechanism. I had little to no cardio in my routine. And soon, it showed. Not just on the scale, but in the way people looked at me. I could feel the judgment in their eyes… the surprise, the silent criticism. Some relatives and co-workers were more vocal than others, and those comments stuck.
My self-esteem took a hit. That’s when I knew something had to change.
Why I started running
I didn’t start running because I loved it.
I started because I needed a healthy habit to replace my destructive ones. I was trying to quit nicotine (again). I was desperate to feel in control. I needed to move, to sweat, to prove to myself that I still had some discipline left in me.
Running gave me all of that.
Whenever I felt the urge to vape, I’d lace up my shoes and run. Especially during withdrawals, those moments when cravings felt unbearable, running gave me something to do, something to feel. It released just enough dopamine to keep me going. And every time I made it through a craving without giving in, I stayed nicotine-free a little longer.
I’ve learned that it’s not about promising I’ll never touch nicotine again for the rest of my life. That thought alone makes me spiral. Instead, I focus on surviving the days when I need it most. On those days, I run. And I hope that life continues to get better, so I’ll have more days when I don’t need anything to numb myself.
But let’s be honest, my biggest reason for running was to lose weight.
I thought I’d stay skinny no matter how much I ate
Having a good body has always been part of my identity. It made me feel powerful and confident. I never thought I could gain weight. I’d always been naturally skinny, no matter how much I ate. So when my jeans stopped fitting and people started commenting, it shook me.
And it wasn’t just them, I could see it in old photos. At 19, I looked like a completely different person.
That’s when running became more than a habit, it became a form of control. A way to reclaim my body and confidence on my own terms. And the thing is… it worked.
The dark days
As adults, we all go through periods where life feels heavy and overwhelming.
We panic about time slipping through our fingers. We get stuck in loops of overthinking, worrying about things we can’t fix in a day. We want change, but we want it now, and when we can’t get it, we collapse under the pressure.
That’s when running saves me.
When I’m running, like really running, I’m not thinking about my to-do list or my failures. I’m thinking about catching my breath. About the burn in my legs. About the music blasting in my ears. Running narrows my focus to just one thing.
It helps me declutter my mind and reminds me what’s truly important. It’s a way to exhaust myself in a healthy way, so I have no energy left for intrusive thoughts or self-sabotage.
A year later
It’s been a year now since I started running.
I’m stronger: mentally and physically. And for the first time in a while, I feel proud of the discipline I’ve built. It wasn’t easy. It didn’t happen overnight. But I earned it.
Running didn’t fix my life. But it anchored me when things got dark. And when life gets hard again (because it will), I know I won’t always like who I am in the moment.
- I’ll gain weight again.
- I’ll feel stressed.
- I’ll lose people.
- I’ll cut others off.
- I’ll be heartbroken and fed up.
But as long as I keep running
toward clarity, toward healing, toward myself
I know I’ll be okay eventually.