No one warned me about a slowed metabolism until it was too late. Or maybe I wasn’t listening, because I was a teenager. Teenagers don’t listen.
When you were in high school, it would be perfectly normal to finish off an entire pizza all to yourself while maintaining a skeletal figure. I try to reflect on that time to figure out the exact formula of my teenage diet, thinking I could revert back to it. All that comes to memory is binge eating the crappiest food possible or not eating at all. Which identically aligns with my current eating habits. However, I am withholding this “woman’s” body.
In reviewing my physical activity as a teenager, I do recall a lot more exercise. I was involved in organized sports everyday after school. I ran around the neighborhood on my bike or roller blades with my friends. I did a lot of spontaneous dancing in my room in front of the mirror. And even though I was a brat who did not participate in gym class, I have come to realize that my physical activity then was close to 90% more then now. So I ask myself, “Why am I not adopting these methods of physical activity?” There are multiple answers to that question. To name a few: time, money, and energy level.
Working a full-time job is not conducive to a lifestyle with multiple hours of physical activity. One could have a gym membership and make a habit of going before or after work everyday. The problem with that is, I don’t have money for a gym membership, and this method doesn’t allow for a social life that involves pinot grigio. So, why don’t I just go running or do yoga in my living room? The last factor that kills my physical activity ambitions is energy. Where did all the energy go? All of the energy is sucked out of my body through stress that evolves from work, managing my finances, and real life concerns for society. It’s amazing how naive teenagers are.
In conclusion, the reason I will never have the same body I did as when I was a teenager, nor will anyone else, is because teenagers are naive. They don’t know how good they have it, but they whine and complain about wanting grow up. In an alternate universe, if my teenage-self is reading this, don’t grow up too fast, enjoy that entire pizza for me, and just know that this is what you have to look forward to. Bless you child.
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