In the past I have been guilty of body neglect. Well that's not entirely true...what my stomach wants it usually gets. Can I help it if my stomach wants a McChicken from time to time? I can't just ignore the poor thing!
No, neglect isn't the word- careless fits much better. As a teen I used to drink on average a litre of coke a day. Looking back one would assume I had a problem, but at the time it was just what I did. I also had a thing for white bread peanut butter sandwiches (as a pre dinner snack!) and did little to no exercise yet still maintained quite a slim figure. Sure it was a gross lifestyle but when you're a teenager and can't see the damage you just don't give a rats. And to be honest if I could go back and meet my 17 year old self I would probably hand her a pie and tell her to live it up while she can.
The point where I started caring about my body image came about when I put on what some people refer to as the 'freshman fifteen' (aka the weight gained in most people's first year of uni). I blame this entirely on Eastside - the bar on campus. The beer was cheap and downing a jug was a much more appealing alternative to learning about semiotics in Media Studies 101. Of course it didn't help that the majority of my drinking buddies were males and keeping up with the boys was mandatory.
By the time Summer rolled around I was growing rolls around my middle. So I joined the gym and have never looked back. I'm not saying that I'm now one of those gym junkie nuts who pretend they just don't like the taste of KFC (ha!) but I am certainly more health conscious.
It started out with the gym which has allowed me to get away with a few too many wines most weekends and takeaways a couple times a week. As I get older though my fitness motivation has begun to factor in the state of my insides. For instance at the moment I'm training for a half marathon. So rather than running to shed the kilos I am now running for fitness sake – madness I know. What's even crazier is that I'm only taking part in the damn thing because of peer pressure from other twenty somethings at work! The sickness is spreading.
Now even though I am actually quite crap at running and resemble a shiny tomato for at least an hour afterwards, I find it relatively easy to motivate myself to train. I guess this is because I can see the results and work towards goals like the marathon, but flossing takes this health business to a whole new level.
In the past I always thought it seemed a little pointless but after living with a dental hygienist student and germaphobe boyfriend I've bought into it. I guess I always knew I should but I just didn't care. Similarly I now remove my eye makeup before bed. Funny how years of waking up as a panda has given me the beginnings of crows feet.
I reckon you can tell how old you are by the length of your pre bedtime routine. As a child it starts out: jamys on, brush teeth, bed. As a twenty something my routine now consists of taking off my makeup, washing my face, then flossing followed by two minutes exactly of teeth brushing (my electric toothbrush has an 'ideal brush time' buzzer....yep).
Jeez just writing that makes me tired. Being good is certainly hard work but this is what I (and I'm sure plenty of other twenty somethings with guilty health consciences) have become.
My name is Amanda and I am officially health conscious. I voluntarily run on a Sunday and am slave to a dictating toothbrush.
