I find amusing (and horrifying) how many women look thin and fine, sometimes even great, clothed... but when they're in the gym locker room, and they shed their outer layers to reveal... bleeeeeeccccccch! Everything just drops to the floor at the moment of release. The rolls of dough burst forth, puckered, and sagging.

Well, now, I am one of those women.

But that is going to change.

I figure, I'm probably going to be obssessed with my body for the rest of my life (or at least the majority of the rest of it), so I might as well become a full-fledged, out-in-the-open, health-and-fitness nut. Might as well accept the obssession, turn it into a life-hobby and life-goal, go all out. Not feel ashamed about devoting as much of my life as is necessary to being in the best physical shape possible.

So what if this pursuit of optimum health, fitness, and the perfect body turns out defining me more than anything else? I don't believe it's an innately bad thing to be so focused on one's own body. In fact, it's being ultra responsible and progressive. The healthier and more fit I am, the happier I will be, and the better able to contribute to society I will be as well.

ONE BODY, ONE LIFE. Don't forget it. Take care of Number One first, and then the world.