The road to good health is a challenging one, especially in today’s day and age. Misinformation abounds and unhealthy food options are everywhere. It’s no wonder people are overwhelmed when it comes to the world of health.
Navigating these waters is difficult, but I believe I’ve achieved relative success. However, it was a long journey to get to where I am today. I’ve pursued false notions of health and wrecked my body multiple times along the way. I don’t claim to know it all, but I’m glad to share how I found abundant energy every day.
I’m not exaggerating when I say I run everywhere. Whether I’m going up the staircase, meeting up with friends, or getting to the bus stop, I run. Even with my school backpack, I run. I only stop to walk when I’ve just eaten a meal or when I’m carrying heavy things like groceries. I’m not summoning my willpower to force myself to do this. Instead, it’s a natural outgrowth of the energy I have.
Does that level of energy seem impossible to attain? It’s not. Each and every one of us has experienced it, whether we remember it or not.
Ever watch little children at play? They’re nearly bouncing off the walls. One study found their constant activity expends the same energy as an adult running an entire marathon every day. How enjoyable life would be if we had a marathon’s worth of energy to expend daily.
I’m not saying we should expect to have as much energy as children do, as they indeed have physiological advantages over adults. But the daily fatigue of the modern age is far from normal. It’s a shame we’ve come to accept chronic conditions, disease, and an overall lack of energy as a fact of life. These things are anything but natural.
Why am I so passionate about health? It provides me the energy to tackle anything.
Here’s my story. Here’s my journey. Here’s how I found my passion for health. I hope it gives you an idea of who I am.
Hello World (2003-2007)
I was born on June 5th, 2003, in Evanston, Illinois.
I was the firstborn son of my amazing mom Sha, and we lived in a small apartment with my now-divorced dad. A couple of years later, we moved into a single-family house in the Northwest Chicago suburbs to be in a better school district.
My very first memory came when I was three. I was at home playing with Lincoln Logs when my dad told me I would have a brother. The reality of sharing my space deeply disturbed me, and I think that’s why this moment stuck with me.
My mom tells me I was more difficult to raise than my little brother. I would cry often and wake up throughout the night. On the other hand, my brother had an easygoing nature and was a deep sleeper.
Preschool Troubles (2007-2008)
I was extremely shy as a child. How shy? From what my mom remembered:
- I peed my pants in class (multiple times) rather than ask to go to the bathroom.
- I didn’t utter a single word in preschool. Concerned, the teacher asked my mom if I came from China because she thought I couldn’t understand English.
- For a class activity, the teacher forgot to give me scissors, so I sat there the entire hour doing nothing. Only when the teacher asked my mom (who then asked me) did they find out why I didn’t participate.
As for the things I remembered, I only recall my deepest fears and desires from this period.
Fears
Water: I was deathly afraid of it. I remember the first time I showered: my eyes stung, an infinite black void appeared under my closed eyelids, and this weird texture surrounded my skin. I don’t know how on earth my mom got me into the swimming pool.
Darkness: the night was terrifying. I would engulf myself in my blanket and only leave an opening for my mouth and nose. In the bedroom my brother and I shared, my side of the room had a sun painted on it while my brother had a moon. Thank goodness I had the sun on my side, protecting me from the darkness.
Shots: it took four nurses to hold me down for vaccine shots (yes, that’s a flex). Instinctually, I knew there was something up with vaccines.
My one desire
My biggest desire was sweets. The bakery section of the grocery store was absolute heaven. I would gawk and gape at the muffins, cakes, and pastries. I vowed that one day I would be able to buy the whole bakery section. It was a place I never wanted to leave.
My parents never left me unsupervised with sweets, but they forgot to tell my nanny to do so. They left me at her house, and she kept all the sweets outside. The next day, I woke up before her and ate to my heart’s content. Once my nanny got up and prepared chocolate cake and other foods for breakfast, I ate even more. I then threw up all over my plate.
From then on, she hid all the sugary snacks. Despite me throwing up, my love for sweets didn’t diminish for a second.
The Golden Years: Elementary School (2008-2013)
Ah, elementary school–the most carefree time of my life. I lived in the present and had no insecurities. My maternal grandparents would walk me to and from school, four blocks away. I made some of my best friends, some of whom I’m still in contact with. And I discovered the magic that is cafeteria cinnamon french toast sticks with syrup.
I wanted to be an environmentalist when I grew up. Our school library allowed each student to check out two books per week, and I always spent my weekly book allowance on animal books.
In the wintertime, I would spend hours sledding on the hill right across the street. The Chicago blizzard of 2011 was spectacular, with the snow stacked nearly to my chin.
My mom’s friend from college would come every Saturday to play with us, and my cousin also came to play often. My family started connecting with other Asian families in the area, and before long, we held monthly potluck parties.
Activities galore
My mom signed me up for a bunch of extracurriculars, as most Asian moms do. If I was at home with nothing to do, I played Pokemon on my Nintendo DS Lite or watched Tom and Jerry, so I was better kept busy. I did piano, drawing, tennis, martial arts, and most remarkably, swimming (apparently I overcame my fear of water).
Before I joined the swim team, my mom would take me to the swimming pool and teach me how to swim (while she learned herself). One of the proudest moments of my life was when I swam twenty-five yards without stopping and reached the other side of the pool. I never understood her obsession with getting me to swim, but I’m grateful she did so.
However, I despised my mom for leaving for evening dance lessons. I cried whenever she left and was asleep by the time she came home. I also hated studying Chinese for Sunday Chinese school.
The only good thing about Chinese school was that on our way home, my family would pass by a small Chinese shop with the best Chinese sweets. As usual, I wanted to buy the whole aisle, but my mom only allowed my brother and me to choose one item.
Family divorce
In fourth grade, the last grade of my elementary school, my parents divorced and my dad moved out. As a light sleeper, I heard my parents arguing at night, so I knew they didn’t get along. My dad rarely spent time with me while my mom did almost everything, so I didn’t think much of the divorce since I wasn’t close with my dad.
My dad was uncompromisingly frugal and never wanted to spend anything more than necessary on his kids or himself. Though we weren’t rich, we had a good amount to spend and such thrift was extreme.
When my mom signed us up for activities that costed money, it caused great conflict between her and my dad. Even if she got past that, she had to coordinate the transportation and logistics entirely on her own.
She was a supermom both before and after the divorce, having a nine-to-five job while cooking for the family, driving us to all our extracurriculars, and doing a bunch of other things.
The Insecurity Starts: Middle School Part 1 (2013-2015)
I had always walked to school, so taking the bus was a new experience. I missed the bus on the first day because I was watching Pokemon episodes. Great start.
Whenever I wasn’t doing schoolwork or extracurriculars, I played video games. This was the cause of conflict in the family, sparking arguments almost daily. My mom despised such games while I was addicted to them, spending upwards of six hours a day at the worst.
Height problems
No longer completely a child, I became more aware of others and how I stacked up in comparison. It was during this time I developed my greatest insecurity: my height (or lack of it). Growing up with a height-focused mom in a height-obsessed Asian culture only added to this.
I can’t blame my mom. Height matters, especially for men. But my mom’s constant comparisons of me with other children and ruthless analysis of group photos for height chipped away at me. I pretended not to care, but I was becoming acutely aware of how physically small I was.
It wasn’t like I was stunting my growth. Aside from my dad being short, I slept well and exercised at swim team practice five days a week.
I probably could have eaten better. My mom’s focus on weight loss rubbed off on me, so I was afraid of being fat. I remember how the middle school lunch of five chicken nuggets, a spoonful of vegetables, and a cinnamon bun was enough to sustain me.
To feel better about my body, I started googling how to build a six-pack and gain muscle, all at the ripe age of ten. Since I was very lean from swimming and eating little, I had a defined six-pack after doing ab workouts for a month.
On the pull-up bar hang fitness test, where you hold your head above the pull-up bar, I set the school record at fifty seconds. Pound for pound, I was strong. But in terms of absolute strength and size, I couldn’t compete. I was one of the shortest when lining up by height for the class photo, and in those moments I wanted to disappear.
My small appearance exacerbated my shy nature. None of my elementary school friends were in my fifth-grade class, making things worse. And in sixth grade, all of them were placed in three-grades-above math while I was placed in two-grades-above math. Throughout those two years, I rarely talked and made just one new friend.
Noticing girls
I developed my first crush in fifth grade. I played the flute for the school band (and quit piano) while she played the clarinet. Those moments of fleeting eye contact were the highlights of my week. For two years, I never mustered up the courage to talk to her.
At the end of sixth grade, I emailed her only because I would be moving to a new middle school. Without that, I would’ve continued to be her secret admirer. The new school was only 15 minutes away, so at least I would be going to the same high school as her and my friends.
A new dad
My family moved into my mom’s boyfriend’s house. He was a divorced dad, and his children didn’t live with him.
Though he wasn’t very involved in raising me, he was better than my biological dad. He gave my mom the freedom to do what she wanted instead of barring her from spending on my brother and me (like my biological dad did). He drove us to our extracurriculars, was the backup cook, and managed the family finances.
For a going-away party, I invited all my friends to my new house for my twelfth birthday. We played laser tag, had a massive Nerf gun battle, and enjoyed my stepdad’s famous barbecue pork ribs. Among all of my birthdays, this was the most involved a father figure had been. My mom still did the vast majority of things, but it was an improvement.
The Insecurity Builds: Middle School Part 2 (2015-2017)
In seventh grade, I joined the cross-country team at the urging of my mother and continued to swim, draw, and practice martial arts as other ways to keep occupied. I also picked up tennis. Whenever I got the opportunity, I played video games, and I still enjoyed sweets with a passion.
Social troubles
I knew no one in this new school, and I still was as shy as ever. Many kids hit puberty by now, whereas I was still short and small. Of course, I was very toned from swimming five times a week, but with clothes on, I just appeared skinny.
I made a grand total of two friends. To illustrate how socially behind I was, I’d like to provide two examples.
In the Chicago area, there’s a high Jewish population. During seventh grade, when kids have their thirteenth birthday, a common occurrence are Bar Mitzvahs (a Jewish celebration commemorating a boy’s adulthood). In my area, it’s an event comparable to a wedding in terms of spending and people invited, so the host only needs to be acquaintances with you for you to be invited. I was invited to just one.
During Halloween, I went trick-or-treating with my younger brother and a family friend. When I bumped into large friend groups from school, I saw how I wasn’t a part of any of these circles.
Déjà vu
At the end of the first semester of seventh grade, my family decided to move again, this time to the “best” school district in Illinois. Like the past school, it fed into the same high school my childhood friends would be going to, so it didn’t completely unroot my past friendships. It was mainly a move for my brother, who was in third grade.
This school district ranked the highest on test scores because there was a high proportion of Asian students. Being Asian myself, I found it easier to blend in and make friends, and I naturally joined the Chinese boys’ group.
I developed my second crush, again in band class, on a flutist. In eighth grade, it was clear we both liked each other, and we awkwardly said hi. We gave each other gifts for the holidays, competed as a duet in a music competition, and played as the only coed doubles badminton team in gym class. In the end, she broke up with me because I was too nice.
Off the deep end
All was not well. Swimming–the extracurricular I dedicated the bulk of my time to–started eroding my self-confidence. I wasn’t fast at all. In fact, for the amount of time I put in, I was one of the worst swimmers on the team. Perhaps it was because of my short stature or my stroke technique. Regardless, this destroyed my self-esteem.
In the earlier years of swimming, I had kept pace with others. I was never among the fastest, but I was in the acceptable middle.
Even though I was one of the most dedicated swimmers, my performance was average. I could stomach this effort-to-performance discrepancy for a while, rationalizing it would eventually correct itself and I would get faster.
But this break never came. I continued to give it my all every practice and had the most consistent attendance. But somehow, people who skipped half the sessions outpaced me by the end of the season. People who joined last year got better times than me, who had been on the team since first grade. Kids two years younger surpassed me.
During swim meets, people admired me and my sculpted body. They asked me how I got a six-pack. It was moments like these I relished. But once the race started, they were unpleasantly surprised, taken aback by what they expected of someone with a body I had and my actual performance. I hated it.
I was strong in terms of relative strength, scoring 65 on the push-up test (a school record), but I wanted to be physically bigger and take up more space. I desperately wished to be taller and appear more manly.
A Brief Respite: Freshman Year (2017-2018)
At long last, I reunited with my childhood friends. High school was a ten-minute bike ride away, which I loved since it meant I could get more sleep. I quit drawing and martial arts to make time for tennis, flute, and swimming.
In the summer before high school, most academically-inclined kids took world history. Though my childhood friends weren’t in my class, we met during the class breaks.
Some of them joined the same swim team I was on, so after school, we biked together to the pool. After practice, we would bike to my house and play video games. It was irritating being outpaced by friends who had been swimming for a much shorter time, but I enjoyed their company nonetheless.
During freshman year, my favorite thing was playing Fortnite with my friends during lunch while gulping down spoonfuls of food. We had five people at the table, but only four could play as a team, so it was always a frantic rush to the table. Ah, those were the days.
My friends and I all joined the high school swim team. It was intense but bearable with their company.
For the first time in my life, I had insomnia. Years later, I realized this was because I was overdoing it at practice and overtraining (a cause of insomnia).
My swimming effort-to-performance discrepancy further widened. By the end of the season, people who joined the swim team without experience obtained times that were in the ballpark of my times. It felt like the effort I had put in from first grade until now was for nothing. As before, I was known for having the most toned body. But my swim times did not reflect it one bit.
In the spring, I tried out for the tennis team but was cut. Fueled by this failure, I played tennis with even greater ambition. This inspired my younger brother to play, and I was jealous he got an earlier start in the sport than I did.
The start of bodybuilding
The best time of my life was the summer after freshman year, spent almost entirely in China: two weeks at a government-sponsored camp in Guizhou, two weeks at a government-sponsored camp in Yunnan, one week visiting my relatives, two weeks teaching English in Zhoushan, and two weeks teaching English in Suzhou. Everything was planned for us: the lodging, the five-star food, the daily activities, etc.
It was the longest I had been without swimming, so I wanted some form of exercise. There were no pools around, so I was limited to running and resistance training. Being short and insecure about my body, I wanted to build muscle and focused on resistance training.
Seeing my muscle gains intensified my interest. Finally, it was something I was good at, and I was being recognized by others for it. Whereas, in all my time with swimming, the effort I put in yielded little achievement or distinction.
I liked the presence my muscles gave me. Though I was still short, I was physically bigger and felt more masculine. My self-confidence surged, and I found it easier to strike up conversations and made many friendships. Coming home, I spent more and more free time on exercise research, gradually dropping all video games.
The Breaking Point: Sophomore Year (2018-2019)
A sinking feeling
I signed up for the lifeguarding class, but I failed the entry exam. I passed the swimming requirements with ease, but retrieving a brick in the fourteen-foot deep end without goggles broke me. It was single-handedly the scariest experience of my life.
Though there were lifeguards everywhere, when I dove down with my eyes closed, I was gripped by overwhelming fear. It was pitch black, with water burying me, and all I could hear was my frantic heartbeat. I came back to the surface, terrified. After trying three more times, I couldn’t take it anymore and stopped.
I hadn’t opened my eyes underwater ever, except with goggles. I was a strong swimmer, but the inability to see brought out the toddler in me with his abnormal fear of water. I probably only dove three feet without goggles, but it felt like a hundred.
My swimming friends all passed the test. At the same time, the gap between their swimming times and mine was growing, and they had been swimming for only a couple of years. Swimming had been an integral part of my identity, but I couldn’t bear to go to practice every day and be the slowest person in the lane.
For a few months, I did both resistance training and club swimming. I did weightlifting in the school gym after school, biked home, ate dinner, and went back to swim. I still marvel at how I had the determination to pull that off.
In swimming, there’s a part of practice called dryland, which is strength training on land for swimmers. I far surpassed everyone in what we did: pull-ups, bear crawls, sit-ups, pushups, etc. If swimming could be limited to dryland, that would’ve been a dream come true for me.
During this time, my mom became less connected with me. When I asked her if I could skip dryland practice because I was already doing intense strength sessions, we got into arguments. Whereas the other kids routinely skipped dryland practice, I attended every single one until the start of my weightlifting journey.
Throwing in the towel
The path to muscles was straightforward: if you trained regularly, ate well, and slept well, you would gain muscle. The path to height was not–even if you had daily exercise, good nutrition, and good sleep, you couldn’t be guaranteed to grow taller. For years, I had been swimming five times a week, eating adequately, and sleeping well, and was still short.
Understandably frustrated, I wanted to feel more in control. Switching my desire for height to a desire for muscles would do exactly that. And by switching from swimming to bodybuilding, I would gain distinction for my efforts.
Once the club swim season had ended in November and it was time for high school swim season, I made the difficult decision to quit swimming. My mom was appalled and told me it wasn’t about my performance but the daily practice and keeping fit. She didn’t care that I didn't have any swimming achievements.
But when a kid who puts in half as much effort beats you in the pool, these words go out the window. I reasoned I would keep fit by weightlifting, so I didn’t need to swim. She responded that swimming was much better for the developing body and would help me grow taller, whereas weightlifting would stunt my growth.
I hated her fixation on height and convinced myself not to care. If I looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger, it wouldn’t matter that I was short. What I lacked in height I would make up for in aesthetics.
Blinded by science
I read the scientific research articles and found none proving that weightlifting would stunt growth. I also saw nothing proving swimming would help growth. My mom appealed to traditional wisdom, saying it was intuitive and that all Asian parents knew swimming was good for height and lifting heavy things was bad.
This was my first experience with the tension between modern science and traditional wisdom. I like to use my mom’s analogy: if the meteorologist told you it wouldn’t rain today, but your body is telling you you’re getting wet from droplets from the sky, which would you believe?
If the scientific articles haven’t proven 100% direct causation between weights and height or swimming and height, but your body feels stretched from swimming and compressed from weightlifting, which would you believe? I believed the incomplete science, for I couldn’t bear to go with the alternative and continue to swim.
Obsession
As my friends went to swim practice after school, I went to the weight room. While they chatted in the locker room and worked hard as a team, I kept to myself and labored away solo. I grew isolated and shrank back into the shell I had once broken out of last summer in China.
But for the first time, bodybuilding was something I was good at. For the first months, I made consistent muscle gains. My effort was being recognized, and I became addicted. I cut out all processed food, including sweets which I had so loved, and followed the bodybuilding diet to a tee. I didn’t even eat cake on my birthday.
The taste of food didn’t matter as long as I perceived it as healthy based on my incomplete knowledge at the time. I blindly followed exercise science and rejected traditional wisdom. I replaced eggs with egg whites, full-fat cheese with fat-free cheese, and red meat with chicken.
Dark times
I worked out six days a week and took every set to absolute muscle failure. It wasn’t long before I started feeling daily fatigue.
I took this fatigue as a sign I needed to toughen up, not that I was overdoing it. I added HIIT (high-intensity interval training) sprints three times a week, getting up before school to do so. And I played even more tennis in preparation for tryouts.
During winter break vacation, I stuck to my workout regime and used the hotel gyms. Though I missed out on crucial family vacation moments, I felt it was all worth it to maintain my muscle gains.
The overexertion got worse. You see, my school allows you to skip gym class if you do a sport. Wanting to maximize my class time and not waste a period on gym, I needed a sport. I planned to do tennis but was cut from the team a second time (and quit tennis shortly afterward). The only other sport available was no-cut gymnastics.
Gymnastics practice was after school, so I moved my after-school workouts to the morning. Before school, I worked out, and after school, I had gymnastics practice. When I got home, I did sprints.
Nothing would stop me from getting my six workouts and three HIIT sprints per week. Even on the day of the final meet, I did my workout knowing it would hamper my performance.
In the summer, I worked two physically demanding restaurant jobs while biking an hour every day to my jobs and the gym, on top of my six workouts and three sprints a week. I want to reiterate these workouts were as intense as possible, as I was taking every set to muscular failure. I also started keto and intermittent fasting, not at all suitable for a growing boy doing intense exercise.
Throughout this time, I had chronic insomnia, spending an average of a couple of hours a day trying to fall asleep. In the hours I was not getting sleep, I was anxious about how my lack of recovery would impair my muscle gains, which made it even harder to drift off.
When I didn’t get enough sleep, I vowed to exercise even harder to ensure my body would be so tired it would easily fall asleep the next day. I didn’t realize this extreme overtraining was the exact reason for my insomnia.
I dreaded every single workout and had a sense of fear in the hour leading up to one. The first thought I had upon waking up was the day’s workout and how hard it was going to be. And if for some reason the muscles I trained yesterday weren’t sore, I would be disappointed that I didn’t work hard enough.
My parents didn’t see my struggle. When I pleaded with them to pick me up from the gym once a week after leg day (since I didn’t want to bike home with my pulverized legs), they disagreed. Biking was exercise and wasn’t that what I wanted? Wasn’t that the reason I was going to the gym?
I was depressed and always anxious and afraid for the next workout. And during my one rest day each week, I felt guilty for not working out and feeling the pain. This was the hardest period in my life, and I’m glad I didn’t succumb to any dark thoughts then.
The one-week break
At the end of summer, my family went on a one-week vacation. I had the full intention of continuing my workouts, but the change in environment coupled with my sheer exhaustion forced me to have a change in pace. I took a one-week break only after scientific studies confirmed a rest week was okay and even beneficial.
I felt extremely guilty taking this week-long break and even cried, having never taken more than a day’s rest since I started working out. I tried to justify it to myself by reading studies on rest for muscle gains. For the first time, I learned about overtraining and considered the possibility of having overtrained.
During that week, I drifted off to sleep in a matter of moments. Shocked, I realized the insomnia was because of overtraining.
We vacationed with another family, and this family’s mom was even more height-focused than my mom. Both moms urged me to stop bodybuilding during my developing years and save that for my twenties. Her child, who was two years younger than me and from a similar genetic background, was taller than me. My desire for height resurfaced.
Coming back from vacation, I adjusted my workout plan. I switched from six workouts a week to five, incorporated bodyweight exercises to avoid compressing the spine, stopped my three sprints per week, and stopped keto and intermittent fasting. I felt I could balance my simultaneous desires for height and muscle with a better workout design.
COVID-19 Hits: Junior Year (2019-2020)
Being smart about my training, I gained muscle much quicker. Overtraining hurts muscle gains, so even though I was doing less, I was getting better results than in sophomore year. Still, my workouts were more intense than they should’ve been, but it was better than before.
College applications were on the horizon, so I had to find a way to distinguish myself. I had spent all my free time on bodybuilding and hadn’t done anything academically extraordinary. Now that exercise wasn’t taking all my energy, I focused on programming. I had prior experience, so I entered game and app development competitions.
I also quit flute. I started music only because my mom forced me to play piano (it’s common for Asian parents to force their kids to play an instrument). It was clear I didn’t have a future in music, and my mom and I both agreed flute wouldn’t help my college applications. It might actually hurt my chances if it took time away from programming.
COVID-19 Strikes
When we were sent home, I adapted well. Though I couldn’t use the gym, I changed all my workouts to be done from home.
The pandemic saved me from another round of overtraining. To get my gym waiver, I had to do gymnastics and its afternoon practices, but I wanted to continue my afternoon workouts. Now that gymnastics was canceled, I got the gym waiver without the sport. If not for that, I would’ve done morning workouts and afternoon gymnastics practices, overdoing it again.
At this time, I needed distinctions to put on my college applications, so I applied to compete in a bodybuilding competition. I was accepted and started cutting to a ridiculously low body fat level.
The bodybuilding world shuns fats, so I ate mainly proteins and carbs. To reduce caloric intake, I reduced my carb intake since protein was essential for muscle. I ate way too much protein and too few fats or carbs–the only carbs were a few slices of bread before my afternoon workout.
This was my second bout with overtraining, caused by a lack of nutrition instead of intensity. Though once the competition was canceled due to the pandemic, I ate better and recovered.
I had an abundance of free time because of the pandemic. Having quit video games when I started bodybuilding in sophomore year, I leveraged my free time more productively than ever before. I went full-force with cooking, knowing it would help improve my muscle gains. I also offered free Python tutoring online.
The beginnings of Codeucate
Demand skyrocketed for my Python courses so I asked others to help teach. When that wasn’t enough, I formed a nonprofit called Codeucate to provide structure and professionalism to these courses and recruited dozens of summer interns.
Though everything was remote, this experience greatly enhanced my people skills: I managed people decades older than me, resolved agreement breaches, and negotiated potential partnerships.
Codeucate was my first foray into business and I loved it. I knew I didn’t want to do software development for a living and code eight hours a day, but I didn’t know of any other career paths. The combination of interpersonal interaction with technical understanding proved much more exciting, and I found technical management to fit me.
That summer was so enjoyable, second only to my summer in China. Though I was working eighty hours a week, I was benefitting my community, learning a lot, and improving my college application. I had always known you had to stand out on the college application, but I didn’t know how. Now that I knew how and had a clear path, I gave it my all.
Height revisited
My younger brother hit puberty and started growing taller, which reignited my interest in height. I looked into ways to increase height and muscle at the same time and brilliantly decided it would be better to just optimize health. With better health, I would improve both height and muscle growth.
I switched from five workouts a week to three workouts and two swim sessions.
Finding the truth
While researching health topics, I stumbled across the Weston A. Price Foundation, a source of nutrition and health information that has had the greatest impact on me to date, exceeded only by my mom’s influence on me. I learned the timeless principles of traditional diets, among them the importance of salt and saturated fat in the diet.
My definition of healthy food changed from skinless chicken breast to grass-fed ribeye, pasteurized skim milk to raw grass-fed whole milk, conventionally-raised egg whites to pastured-raised eggs, and a dab of cooking oil to large amounts of grass-fed butter.
For my seventeenth birthday, my stepdad drove two hours to satisfy my birthday request for raw milk. It was creamy, sweet, and smooth. It tasted like ice cream, like a milkshake. I couldn’t believe mainstream media touted raw milk as the plague and advocated for the tasteless skim milk instead.
Having adhered to the “healthy” bodybuilding diet since sophomore year, switching to this “diet” was a piece of cake. Whereas the bodybuilding food I ate was bland and dry, the food I now ate was flavorful and rich.
Wisdom over science
My body felt so much better following these traditional nutritional principles, and I started to question conventional health advice.
What greater evidence is there than your personal experience? Better yet, what about the experiences of the millions of people who came before you? There’s a reason traditional wisdom and principles are passed down: because they work. It must be true for it to stand the test of time, for it to remain after thousands of years.
By comparison, modern science is just a few centuries old. Though science has come far, it will be ages before science can deconstruct the trillions of mechanisms, molecules, and interactions in the body.
Because science is always working off a partial understanding, the conclusions it reaches are incomplete at best and disastrous at worst. Remember how we demonized fat in just the past decade? We’ve grown fatter since, and now we’re completely reversing our stance. What else is science wrong about?
I’d rather go with what’s tried and true for hundreds of generations, instead of the ever-changing mainstream advice from an ever-changing body of research.
An Existential Crisis: Senior Year (2020-2021)
Back in the swim of things
My brother’s height was rapidly catching up to mine. At the same time, I no longer had such a strong desire for muscle, gaining enough from my two years of bodybuilding. My desire for height took the reins and I switched all my workouts to swimming, swimming five times a week at the local gym.
Now that I was swimming on my own, not with a club or school team, I wasn’t competing against anyone and it was liberating. I didn’t care about my performance but instead focused on the daily exercise. Swimming became much more enjoyable, and I’ve stuck with it since then.
Finding my routine
The first semester was remote, and I loved it. I remember wishing that we would never return to in-person school. I don’t know how I would’ve managed if school was in-person, since I had to prepare college applications in addition to my normal high school tasks.
I thrived on the same routine. During the breaks in between remote classes, I finished homework. When school ended, I had little left to do. I took a nap and then went swimming. Coming home, I ate dinner cooked by my loving mom and went to work on my nonprofit and college essays. I did nightly yoga stretching and got nine hours of sleep.
I enjoyed being with my mom more often. In the past years, I only saw my mom for an hour or two on school days. Now, we cooked and ate meals together and went on weekly walks. My mom became the person I could share anything with. This bonding was a little late but better late than never.
My meals became more nutritious and pleasurable. I estimate I ate double the calories I used to, but my body was feeling better than it ever did. For breakfast, instead of hurriedly gulping down low-fat milk with denatured cereal, I savored a piece of fruit, five pasture-raised eggs, a big chunk of grass-fed cheese, a large serving of vegetables, and peanut butter toast.
Stanford, MIT, and more
I was deciding between Stanford and MIT for the early admissions round. You see, if you applied to Stanford early, you couldn’t apply to any other private school early. My dream school was Stanford, but I thought I had a good chance at MIT with my computer science background. Applying early gives you a better chance, so this decision was crucial.
My friends said to follow my heart and go for Stanford. My divorced dad said otherwise. Since MIT had fewer athlete spots, didn’t practice legacy admissions, and had a slightly higher admissions rate, he suggested MIT.
When I talked about my attraction to California, my dad scoffed and said it was largely irrelevant. He added that I hadn’t been to California since I was four, which was true. Convinced, I discounted my “irrational” attraction to the West Coast and decided it shouldn’t influence my top college pick.
Stanford would’ve better fit someone with an entrepreneurial side like me. Looking back, I think I had a real chance of getting in had I applied early since I fit that entrepreneur persona. MIT’s state-of-art research didn’t appeal one bit to me, and I did not fit their nerd persona, but hindsight is 20/20.
After applying early to MIT, I worked on my normal round applications. I spent my entire winter break working on essays. It was not fun, to say the least.
In total, I applied to UC Berkeley, University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, University of Michigan, University of Wisconsin-Madison, CalTech, Stanford, MIT, Harvard, Princeton, Columbia, Yale, Northwestern, University of Pennsylvania, and University of Southern California.
My top schools were Stanford and UC Berkeley because I had a yearning for California. I longed for sunny weather because I got the winter blues in Chicago, getting zero sunshine for nearly half the year.
I applied to all the other schools for the prestige, but my heart was never intent on going. In the end, I got into the University of Wisconsin-Madison, University of Michigan, University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign for computer science (harder to get into than other majors), and most importantly, UC Berkeley.
Dad’s trap
So the decision was easy, right? Go to UC Berkeley, right? Not so fast. My dad spent an entire month convincing me to go to Urbana-Champaign because it was $30,000 cheaper than Berkeley annually.
He was mandated by court to help pay for my education, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. He had an MBA from Northwestern, worked a consulting job, and had little expenses. Furthermore, he would be splitting college costs with my mom.
He reasoned the curriculum would be the same, to which I agreed. All decent schools would have a robust computer science curriculum. I argued that the networking and job opportunities were better at Berkeley. He countered with anecdotes about how others in my situation went the state school route and how I would meet just as brilliant people.
When I highlighted how much the weather mattered to me, he told me to focus on real things. I deferred to him and suppressed my “illogical” reasons. Now I know no matter how “illogical” something is, it’s as real as anything. If it matters to you, there’s no changing that.
For a few weeks, Urbana-Champaign looked like a viable contender to Berkeley. My mom didn’t know of any of this, so when she heard about this, she was outraged. She told me without a doubt Berkeley was the way to go. Even if my dad didn’t pay a single penny, even if she had to work her entire life, she would support me.
When it was clear I was set on Berkeley, my dad asked me to consider how it would impact his retirement and my younger brother. Among other things, I remember he emphasized how both my brother and I could go to Urbana-Champaign for just a bit more than the price of me going to Berkeley, as if I was hurting my brother by choosing Berkeley.
My dad used his decades of experience as an adult to manipulate my judgment as a teenager. He made it seem as if he was looking out for the best for me, while he was only interested in saving himself some money. It saddens me to see that he would do such a thing to his own son who worked so hard in high school.
If I fell for his trap, my whole life would’ve been changed. I wouldn’t be anywhere close to where I am today without the friends I’ve made at UC Berkeley, the tech opportunities in the Bay Area, and the daily mood-lifting weather. His blinding frugality and short-sightedness would have cost me the experience of a lifetime.
Filling the void
When I finished my college applications, I intended to play video games for a few days to celebrate. After only playing a couple of hours, I realized video games had lost all their appeal to me. It was the bittersweet end to my video game saga.
Unable to distract myself, I was forced to confront my newfound lack of meaning. My life’s purpose had been to get into a good college. That was an unspoken rule in Asian culture, and I had willingly accepted it. But after finishing college applications, I lost that purpose.
To fill the void, my height insecurity blew up and growing taller became my purpose. I fixated on height like I had never before: exploring the Law of Attraction for height increase, using unorthodox methods like seat-elevated cycling and pituitary gland meditation, and stretching for hours daily.
I grew depressed when my efforts yielded little results. Seeing my brother’s effortless height growth from puberty made me more frustrated. I was jealous and did things I’m not proud of, picking arguments with him for the smallest of reasons and trying to get him to eat junk food to hamper his growth.
Catching up
I still needed things to fill my time and decided to connect with my peers before we left for college. Having isolated myself in the gym while others were hanging out after school, I wasn’t part of any friend groups.
I was desperate to have the classic high school social experiences now that high school was ending. The only school dance I attended was homecoming in freshman year, and it was now time for senior year prom. I hadn’t found a friend group for prom and the ticket deadline had passed. But having gained self-confidence from Codeucate, I wasn’t deterred.
Connecting with an acquaintance two days before prom, I joined her group for the pre-party and after-party. As they went to the dance (hosted at the school because of the pandemic), I went despite not having a ticket and was let in. Though I didn’t have a seat at the dinner table, it didn’t matter. That night was spectacular.
There were other year-end events for high school seniors, and I attended all of them. I found a friend group for Spring Fling, a year-end sporting event for all grades. For me, this was my first time, having never had a group to go with.
It was nearing summer, my birthday, and graduation party season. An acquaintance invited me to their graduation party and I was deeply honored, it being my first high school party invitation.
When a family friend offered to hold a graduation party for me at their home with a pool, I was ecstatic. I wanted to have a memorable and massive party, but I was worried extending invitations to people I barely knew would seem desperate. Thinking back to how excited I was to receive the invitation from the acquaintance, I realized this fear was unfounded.
The most memorable day of my life was the day of my graduation and eighteenth birthday party. Over sixty people showed up–all my friends and acquaintances from high school in one place together. It was the perfect finale to the high school chapter of my life.
The summer was interspersed with others’ graduation parties. Acquaintances I invited to my party invited me to theirs, and I got to meet many people.
Not the quintessential summer
It wasn’t all fun and games. That summer was one of the lowest points of my life. In the past summers, I was motivated to distinguish myself for college applications, whether through my nonprofit or summer jobs. This summer, I had already gotten into a good college.
I took a restaurant job to improve my social skills, since such jobs in the summer after my sophomore year had proved to help. Outside of the job, I still had many hours to spend, but I had nothing I needed to spend them on.
I hated this lack of direction. My life was built on being productive and making progress towards a goal, which was getting into college. But now there was no goal, and I was not used to it.
I tried setting the goal of growing taller. But goals must be within your control, and height was a tricky one.
Despite my efforts, I barely grew taller and felt all my hard work was for nothing. In reality, you always gain something from hard work, whether that’s habits, skills, or knowledge. But I couldn’t see it because I was evaluating everything in terms of millimeters, in terms of growing taller.
Though the summer between high school and college was the perfect time to kick back, I could never bring myself to fully relax. When “relaxing”, I felt guilty and tried to find something productive to do.
The only thing I wanted to be productive about was height, but whenever I thought about height I thought about bodybuilding and the past and how much I regretted it all. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t stop this self-destructive desire.
Undertraining
I reasoned that babies grow the most and they also sleep the most and expend little energy. I experimented by taking ninety-minute midday naps and only swimming when I felt like it, instead of sticking to a weekly practice routine. I averaged three swims a week. Interestingly, I felt much more tired than had I stuck to a schedule.
This “undertraining” experience proved to me being lazy was not as comfortable as I imagined. I learned exercise didn’t take away energy but rather gave energy, provided I wasn’t overdoing it. From then on, I’ve done my best to exercise consistently.
A Health Experiment: College Freshman Year (2021-2022)
The cornerstones of health–sleep, exercise, and nutrition–were all challenged as I entered UC Berkeley.
I was hesitant about the dorms since I knew college kids slept late. But it was unlikely I would get a single room, so I tried to find an early sleeper. The only person I found was someone trying to sleep earlier, but not sleeping early yet. I took what I could get.
Note that when I say sleeping early, I mean early in the college sense. Most college students would consider a 10 pm bedtime early, but I wouldn’t.
Though my roommate never slept as early as I did, he was okay with me turning off the lights when I went to bed. I ended up sleeping at 10:30 pm to not kick him (and my other roommate) out of the room too early.
Finding a consistent exercise time was difficult. In college, class times are different by the day. Classes meet Monday-Wednesday-Friday, Tuesday-Thursday, or once a week. It was hard to have an uninterrupted block of time at the same time every day to exercise. I much preferred the high school routine with the same classes and schedule every day.
The pool only offered 45-minute slots as a pandemic measure, whereas I was used to swimming an hour per session. And, they only had midday or evening times. My favorite time to exercise was right after school, which was 3:30 pm in high school. I had no choice but to adjust my exercise time. As a routine lover, this deeply upset me.
On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I swam at midday, and on Tuesday and Thursday, I swam in the evening since I had midday classes. I could never get into the rhythm with this schedule, so I skipped my midday classes to swim and watched the recordings later.
Toxic food
The biggest challenge was the food. It just didn’t sit right with me. Maybe it was preservatives, toxic seed oils, or something else I didn’t know about.
At home where I ate according to traditional principles, I would use the bathroom in the morning and feel supremely relieved (to put it gently). Whereas during this time, I would be lucky if I had the urge to move my bowels. Most days, I would feel clogged and bloated. Still, I maintained my swim practice, though it required substantial willpower with a bloated stomach.
When I ate a similar amount of food as I was used to at home, my body would take forever to digest it. For instance, one day, I ate lunch until I felt full and satisfied. My system felt so congested for the rest of the day that I skipped dinner. I then fasted for the next day because I was still uncomfortable.
I adjusted my food intake, and soon ate less than half the calories I used to eat. I would leave every meal feeling hungry and had to willfully restrain myself from eating more. And whenever I burped, I could feel acid in my throat.
My life quality and mental health suffered. Mealtimes lost their pleasure and my willpower was depleted from restricting myself in the dining halls and pushing myself in the pool. I was overwhelmed by classes, stopped talking with others, and considered dropping the computer science major to switch to the easier data science major.
My confidence was shattered. I was always at the top of my class in high school and here I was considering switching majors. I thought the tough college environment was the root cause of my struggles. But next semester, I would discover my lack of health and energy contributed most to my difficulties.
Dorm escape
When I went to a friend’s house over Thanksgiving break, my body felt amazing. My bowel movements became normal, my system felt clean and fresh, and I ate until I was full and my body processed it well. Going back, I knew the food was causing my issues.
I needed to control my food and I just so happened to have access to a kitchen in my fraternity. What, I joined a fraternity? Isn’t fraternity life the opposite of healthy? Let me explain.
My dorm was near some fraternity houses, and in the first weeks of school, fraternities hosted events to attract freshmen. I wasn’t remotely interested in joining, but some were offering free food or cash prizes, so I went.
There was this fraternity whose members were humble, kind, and didn’t embody the fraternity stereotype at all. They were a fledgling chapter with five brothers and seemed desperate for members, so I knew I would have a bigger say in any fraternity matter if I joined.
The president gave me a house tour, and I was excited to see the kitchen. He also added that the rooms were cheap to rent and that there may be a single room opening up next semester. Excited by the possibility of living in the single, I joined the fraternity and was initiated a couple of months later, with no hazing whatsoever.
With access to the kitchen, I bought groceries and cooked and my body healed. Doing strategic elimination of dining hall foods, I found that scrambled eggs were the culprit. They were made from liquid eggs which often have many preservatives. There likely were other aggravating foods, but I never figured them out.
I had to get out of the dorms and the mandatory meal plan that came with it. I confirmed with the fraternity president that the single would be open. Then, I went through a special appeals process to break the two-semester dorm contract. Thank goodness the school approved it, and I was set to move into the single next semester.
Regaining health
Living in a single boosted my health tremendously. I finally slept on my own schedule. I hadn’t met anyone in college who slept as “early” as I did, so having a single was crucial.
The pool times were still only during midday and evening, but at least there wasn’t the pandemic 45-minute slot restriction. Eventually, I got used to midday swimming and started enjoying it more than afternoon swimming.
Midday exercise was the perfect break between my morning and afternoon classes. And, it was right between my two biggest meals of the day (breakfast and lunch), which ensured I had adequate fuel. And fuel me I did.
I cooked three meals a day, following traditional food principles. Every meal was fresh since I knew exactly how much to prepare, only needing to cook for myself. I had no leftovers and rarely used the microwave, eating even better than I did at home. Mealtimes always gave me pleasure, so I had something to look forward to every day.
I reduced my course load to avoid overwhelming myself like I did last semester. But when I wasn’t able to get into an easy breadth class, I decided to take a harder computer science class, expecting the worst in terms of workload. But, the second semester was much easier than the first, and it had much to do with my better health.
My retention of facts, intensity of focus, and study efficiency all improved with my health. I had more time outside class and did an internship, joined clubs, and made new friends. I enjoyed college for the first time.
And I found my new life meaning and purpose: financial freedom. The college life purpose was obsolete, the growing taller purpose only dragged me down, but this new purpose united everything I was doing under one theme.
In the summer, I was hired as a teaching assistant so I had to stay at Berkeley. Loving the weather and my daily swim in the sunshine, not to mention the high-quality California produce and pasture-raised animal products, I was glad to stay.
The Story Has Just Begun
Exercise
I swim every day, seven days a week, for about an hour each time. Since I skip sessions for vacations, retreats, pool closures, and sickness, I probably average around five to six days a week over the year.
Giving little thought to my performance has been freeing. Rather than feel bad if I’m not shaving off seconds, I simply enjoy the movement. I do it for its own sake and the energy it brings.
I don’t swim with a team because I wouldn’t be able to self-pace, something that is crucial for me. I swim a few laps at a comfortable pace, stop, rest until I feel ready, and repeat.
By adjusting the intensity to fit me every day, the practice is perfectly challenging: hard enough so I don’t get bored but easy enough that I look forward to swimming tomorrow. It’s this philosophy that keeps me consistent and gives me my year-round goggle tan, a badge of honor I proudly wear.
I schedule my classes, my commitments, and my life around my midday practice. Some may consider this excessive, but for me, it’s key to maintaining my consistency and daily energy. I only allow vacations and important social events to exceed swimming in priority. And when the pool is closed, I do an hour of yoga instead.
At night, I do yin yoga, a form of yoga based on passive floor poses like the splits, held for up to five minutes or more. It stretches and loosens my muscles, and it’s perfect as a calming bedtime routine. I do it for half an hour to an hour while calling close ones or watching Youtube videos.
Nutrition
I cook three meals a day and eat copious amounts of dairy, which comprises a third of my calories. I never think of myself as on a diet, but as living a healthy lifestyle.
I eat according to the timeless principles of traditional diets from the Weston A. Price Foundation. I never feel like I’m depriving myself and rarely exercise willpower when it comes to food. Occasionally, I’ll have a craving when confronted with a donut, but such instances are rare and easily overcome.
I am serious when I say I eat double or triple the calories of what my college peers eat. I rarely meet anyone who eats more than me. I think I experienced their life and the tiny amounts of food they eat during my first-semester dining hall experience.
When eating in social settings, I don’t worry too much. If I have to eat unhealthily, I might as well enjoy it. I remember in my bodybuilding days any slight deviation from my food plan would cause great anxiety. That caused more damage to my health than the food did, as health is impacted by your mental state too.
Sleep
Swimming under the California sun and getting sunshine every day has drastically improved my sleep quality. I haven’t had any sleep issues since coming to California, whereas in Chicago, falling asleep was a routine issue. I’m glad in Chicago my mom was always there when I needed a hug to help me fall asleep (it always helped).
I have earplugs, an eye mask, and a white noise machine for the noisy college town. Even when the frat house hosts a party, I sleep through it with this holy trio of tools.
Aspirations
As I mentioned earlier, my current goal is financial freedom. Why? I want to use the time it brings to lead the Weston A. Price Foundation and work on this blog to help more people.
I also want to give back to my family that did so much for me. My grandparents endured much greater hardship than I did, lifting themselves out of extreme poverty in China. My mom overcame prejudice and the language barrier to give my brother and me this great opportunity in America.
When my family came to visit, my grandparents loved San Francisco’s Chinatown. It was the best of both worlds: American public policy combined with the Chinese environment. They relished the autonomy and how they wouldn’t need the help of anyone for daily tasks like buying groceries.
I hope to get them an apartment in Chinatown so that instead of being stuck in the Chicago suburbs, they can fully utilize their remaining years. I would visit them and learn traditional methods of food preparation, improve my Chinese, and study traditional Chinese medicine (TCM).
For my mom who sacrificed so much for my brother and me, I hope my financial freedom means she can spend the rest of her time doing what she loves: yoga.
On the side, I would have a property in Northern California, working the land and raising livestock just as our ancestors did.
Pet peeves
My lifestyle is often at odds with college life. I despise the fact that most social events start late. But if the event is important enough, I’ll occasionally stay up until midnight.
I also loathe how the default college social outing is to go to a restaurant. I’d much rather eat my home-cooked, satiating meals over unhealthy restaurant food that rarely fills me up. That said, I love trying exquisite new dishes in authentic restaurants, but I would never order the foods I could easily make at home. Instead, my favorite social outing is a hike: free and restorative, with plenty of time to get to know the other person.
Overcoming regret
I’d be lying if I said I’m completely over my height insecurity. Do I sometimes wish I was six feet tall? Sure. But I know that I would’ve never focused on bodybuilding if that was the case. I wouldn’t have developed my work ethic from overtraining; nor would I have discovered the Weston A. Price Foundation; nor would I have found my passion for health.
Some days I briefly regret the overtraining that stunted my growth. But if you put me in the same situation with the same knowledge I had at that time, I would’ve done exactly that. For if I did anything else that wouldn’t have been me.
If I hadn’t had my height struggles, I wouldn’t be where I am today. And I love where I am today, having the health and daily energy to take on whatever life throws at me.
The best cure for regret is to love where you are currently. And if you can’t love where you are right now, take action so that you can.
My height
You must be dying to know how tall I am. I’m 5’ 7” (1.70 m) as of this publishing.
You might be thinking, hey, that’s not that short. Why did he have such great insecurity? Well, I’ve gained a few inches since my high school years. But believe me, I was way below average growing up.
I’ve come to accept my height and be grateful it led me down the path it did. At the same time, I wouldn’t mind growing a few inches taller. And I’m sure my swimming, yin yoga stretching, and massive consumption of dairy have helped, among other things.
But I don’t do those things with the sole goal of growing taller. In fact, even if none of these things help height, I would continue to do them because I love them.
I love swimming for the weightlessness, the floating, the expansiveness, and the stretching sensations. I love how every part of my body is involved.
I love yin yoga stretching for the calmness. Any tension remaining in my muscles dissipates, and I’m left feeling wonderfully relieved.
I love dairy: the sweetness of raw milk, the creaminess of cheese, the smoothness of yogurt. And butter–oh what heaven butter is. Anything tastes better with butter.
My philosophy
You may notice a common theme: I love what I do. I’m not exerting willpower when it comes to health. I’d rather exercise moderately every day than sit on the couch and feel even more tired. I’d rather eat delicious meals according to traditional principles than junk food. I’d rather sleep early and wake up refreshed than sleep late and wake up tired.
Health doesn’t mean depriving yourself and exercising great willpower–it’s actually the opposite. By learning and applying traditional principles, health is easy. It’s this message I want to share with the world.
Finding energy
I live every day with an abundance of mental and physical energy. When I can’t have my traditional foods, exercise, or sleep, I’ll feel clogged and less energized. It’s troublesome I always experience this when traveling, and it’s an issue I’m trying to fix. I think it’s mainly the routine disruption that causes my systems to go out of whack.
It’s also this low state of energy I feel most people are in nowadays. They’ve never experienced the energy that comes from optimal health. When you’ve experienced it, there’s no going back. Everything in life becomes easier.
No matter what your goals are, health will help you get to them.
Thank you
If you made it this far, you are truly remarkable. I sincerely appreciate the time you took to read this. I deeply value every relationship I make from this blog, and I’m here for you as a health guide and a friend. I try to respond to every email and want to hear your story.
Thank you for reading. I hope the story of your life brings you health and happiness.