I don’t know what made this time different, all I know is once you start seeing progress, it’s addicting. I felt lighter, I slept better, my skin was clearer. My waist shrunk, my biceps grew, and my clothes fit better. These were all things I was expecting, and I took note of each physical change with pride.

But there were a plethora of changes I did not expect. Some were trivial, and others, life-changing. I value it all. So without further ado, from small to great—what I’ve gained while losing:

My laundry is always done. I am notorious for letting dirty laundry pile up for 3+ weeks between washes. Funny thing about working out: you can’t do that with sweaty clothes (it also helps that I only own three sports bras). Since I started working out the time between washes has lessened to a week, making the ordeal much less fear-inducing.

I have a routine. I’ll be the first to admit I’m not a naturally organized person, but when you only have 1300 calories to work with each day and five workouts a week to fit into you schedule, detailed planning is a must. Anything else is asking for failure. Before I go to bed I plan my meals for the next day and determine when I will work out. I pick out my clothes, get my gym bag packed and make my lunch. Creating these habits has made it easier to add on other new habits (like doing laundry every week!) and I must say, I like the structure. Doing things consistently at the same time means having to think less about the small things, leaving more time for the important ones.

I feel like Superwoman. There’s nothing like reaching a weight-loss goal to make you feel like you can do anything, because it represents a mastery of self. Almost always, we are our own biggest obstacle. So if you can master yourself – your thoughts, your feelings, your actions – you can master anything. This weight-loss journey has been about mastering myself from day one. And the more I lose, the more empowered I feel to not only improve myself but affect change in the world around me.

I have become okay with being uncomfortable. Every day for the past year, I have been uncomfortable. Whether while on the treadmill, or in the squat rack, or like now, while sitting in bed ignoring intense cravings for something sweet, being uncomfortable has become the norm. With weight-loss, it’s inevitable. It’s a prerequisite for progress. It’s when I’m the most uncomfortable that I know I’m pushing my limits and on the path to achieving something greater. It’s to the point now that I’ve become almost suspicious of comfort and ease. When exercising, if it’s easy it’s not effective. If I’m comfortable, I’m not improving. I definitely think this translates outside of the gym. Once you’ve become comfortable at a certain level, it’s time to move on. This applies to physical, intellectual and professional pursuits all the same.

Acknowledging that discomfort will be ever-present as I progress through life allows me to embrace it instead of avoiding it. And doing so unlocks a wealth of opportunities. The student affairs program I will be starting in the fall, for example, requires a unique class with weekly mock counseling sessions that are videotaped and publicly assessed. Just the thought is hive-inducing, yet I’m looking forward to it. I know it makes me uncomfortable because I do not yet have the skills I need to counsel students. I also know that by pushing through this discomfort, I will gain those skills and more. Being uncomfortable is now something I strive for, and I know that by doing so I will become more capable.

I’ve learned to embrace my own weakness. Losing weight is downright hard. It requires pushing yourself and resisting temptation on a daily basis. Nevertheless, we often act like it’s easy. “No biggie,” we say, “I’ll just spend all day turning down my favorite foods and then run for an hour after work!” Our egos don’t let us think about the possibility of failure. If we want the results enough, we’ll do what it takes. If not, we’re weak. In truth, we ask far too much of ourselves. We set perfection as the standard and become disappointed when we inevitably fail. The reality is, we all have weaknesses. Either you plan for them or you succumb to them.

During my weight-loss journey this has meant shopping only when I’m full, planning my meals in advance, and scheduling my workouts for the beginning of the day. But it’s also spilled over into other areas of my life. For example, given my history, is it realistic to think I will have the energy to clean my house after a long day at work? I could convince myself while fresh from a nap that post-work Andrea will find the energy, or I could acknowledge that it’s improbable and find a more feasible option. It may seem like common sense, but people set themselves up for failure all the time because they want to believe the best of themselves so badly, they ignore their weaknesses. This journey has shown me just how much I’ve sabotaged myself with that kind of thinking. I’ve had to learn the hard way that my best chance of success comes from embracing my weaknesses, not denying them.

I have a deeper understanding of success. More than anything, what I’ve gained from this journey is the strong reinforcement of a simple truth: success is the sum of small actions. One day of weight training means nothing. One day of disciplined eating is pointless in itself. Success is not won through sporadic bursts of intense exertion, but through many days of consistent effort. What this means for me is placing less emphasis on end goals and more emphasis on daily behaviors. The behaviors are where success lies; achieving the goal is just a result. So instead of concerning myself with how much I weigh, I concern myself with how often I am able to stick to my calorie budget. And instead of making achieving a 4.0 my objective for next semester, my priority is to develop productive habits. In short, I no longer view success as a state of being, but rather a state of doing. I can be successful independent of reaching a goal, and it is this intermediate success that will ultimately make my goals attainable.