The “freshman 15” did its damage this year. Scratch that. It’s more like the “freshman 20” did its damage.

People aren’t lying when they tell the soon-to-be college freshman about the weight gain that may occur once he or she steps on campus.

I, for one, didn’t believe it.

I was a soccer player and cheerleader in high school. I was so involved at school that I spent my entire four years running around Mitchell High School like a chicken with its head cut off.

So usually, I never had time to sit and eat actual meals. Most times I ate cereal. My senior year I probably ate cereal for all three meals.

It isn’t the healthiest, however it is way less fattening than the chips and dip my roommate and I buy from The Kwik Shop or the Pop-Tarts I constantly find myself eating at Alpha Chi Omega sorority.

When I got to Baker, my No. 1 goal was to not gain the weight people cautioned me about. I mean, sure, I expected maybe five pounds. I was way off with my estimations on that.

Most of the clothes that were comfortable for me in high school now can’t even button.

Talk about depressing.

I have three options: use up all my savings money to buy clothes that fit me, squeezing into my too tight (and now much too short) shorts or wearing sweats every single day for the rest of my college career.

I’m a broke college student with three more years of school to go and I don’t think muffin tops from too tight clothes are very attractive, so sweatpants it is.

While losing weight would be the best option, I am convinced that’s impossible. I work out all the time, including cardio almost every day and weights at least three times a week.

But to my disappointment, every time I step on the scale or try to fit into my favorite skirt from last fall, I haven’t lost any of the weight.

I know it is my own fault due to my lack of willpower (eating has become like an Olympic sport for me), but it still is frustrating. Sometimes I’m not sure if I should laugh at the fact that I work out so much and nothing happens, or cry because my favorite jeans may as well be lying in the dumpster behind Irwin Hall.

Hopefully summertime will help me out with this endeavor to once again fit into my cheerleading uniform without leaving the top button undone.

No more peer pressure to eat junk food late at night or to go to Sonic for happy hour.

Plus, without the endless ice cream from the cafeteria, or the strawberry Pop-Tarts from Alpha Chi Omega, I think I have a shot.