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Dear Izzy, Max, and Kate,
When I was a teenager I was disciplined (with some things). As a wrestler I cut from my summer weight of 140 lbs down to 112 lbs for wrestling season every year. I gave up Yoohoos, Oatmeal creme pies, and most painful of all, Nana’s cooking. That required a strong will. It was painful, physically and emotionally. You don’t know “hunger” until you’ve cried yourself to sleep, your lips dry and cracked, everything in you wanting just a drink of water. For days on end. That’s hunger. And ultimately those sacrifices I made were worth it. More on all of that another time.
Those memories lasted with me into my adult life. So when I started racing triathlons in 2002 the last thing I wanted to think about was my weight. I was never cutting…
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