I'm not sixteen anymore. What I eat makes a difference.
Today I was thinking about a conversation I overheard last summer. I was sitting on the beach at the Seattle Tennis Club near a woman and her friend.
Ok, I was totally eaves dropping.
I had seen the woman before. She's in her mid forties, totally gorgeous, has 3 beautiful older children and and infant. I'm sure her husband is a Microsoft exec or successful lawyer or something. Oh, and did I mention that she is very petite and has probably .5% body fat? The bee-yotch made me feel like a hippo tromping around on the sand.
I'm sure she's very nice. I don't know her at all.
My ears perked up when she started talking about how she stays fit.
"I only have to work out sixteen hours a day..."
She didn't say that, but she did say, "I eat pretty healthy, I don't starve myself or anything...but I haven't had a cookie or ice cream in about ten years."
Hold the phone...excuse me, ma'am, I was rudely listening in on your conversation about how you manage to stay perfect. Did you say what I think you just said? Mmhmm, that's what I thought.
No thanks. I think I'd prefer to keep my less than perfect, sugar filled life, if you please.
Thanks for listening.