“Dude! If you were a bit thinner, you wouldn’t even exist.” Instead of the more commonplace “Hello” or “Hi”, I got this unusual statement for an ice-breaker on my first day at college.

The remark wasn’t new, at least, not for me. After two subsequent attacks of jaundice, all that was left of me was a 108 pound body with the palest of skin imaginable. This particular malady had decelerated my body’s growth and development.

Nevertheless, the dream of achieving a lean body always stood in my mind.

Not just me, but even my mother was extensively conscious of my health. She had this bizarre concept which she called “the (n+1) theory”.

According to her theory, if I was to grow in size, I should have to gulp one more extra bit of every food item that was on the table even if I was completely stuffed. So, I was making the best use of my teeth everyday; still loading on my already-stuffed belly.

This went on for a while. But, the outcome remained unvaried. And this is when I had my epiphany. I realized that my body wouldn’t flourish unless I actually made it active, unless I put it to the test. So, I landed in the gym the very next day.

As I encountered the trainer at the gym, he superficially scanned me from top to bottom and gave me a look, which I thought was a “look of dismay”. “5 A.M. sharp! Tomorrow morning!” he said without paying much attention to me. Then, I returned home.

The first day was a disaster. I nearly collapsed during the warm-up session, let alone the actual workout. But watching the others perform, I pushed on. Later that day, the trainer placed me on a weighing machine and after noticing my weight, released a giggle. I felt embarrassed.

Then, he provided me with the diet plan. I always pictured myself being a lean, healthy guy. So for that, I was ready to happily amend some of the habits.

In the first week, my body cried of sheer fatigue. All I could do was eat and sleep. As time went rolling by, I began gaining a momentum. From two push-ups at one go, I had been able to hit ten. Then slowly fifteen and then twenty.

I could feel my body growing, even though not much significantly. At the end of the first month, I had gained one shy of a dozen pounds. Before, what merely seemed a Utopian fantasy was now turning into an admirable reality. Five months later, the result was fascinating.

The weak, pale, thin kid was long gone and now was replaced by a robust, healthy guy. I finally felt alive.