I Broke A Scale Today. Seriously.

The thing about being in any sort of public health program is that you start to develop these abnormal habits.

I’ve met a person who uses Purell like it’s lotion. I’ve met a person who refuses to touch anything on the subway — including handrails, seats, and other human beings. I’ve met somebody somebody who plays “Guess what disease that stranger is going to die from…” when she’s bored.(1)

Now, I’ve developed my own ridiculous habits.

I’m super paranoid about obesity and heart disease. If somebody is smoking within 40 yards of me in any direction, I run to the nearest building and hide inside until they leave. I’ve resorted to only taking stairs whenever possible — even when I have classes on the 7th floor.(2) And I swear I even do calf raises on my way up the stairs. I’m going to have some seriously toned legs before this program is over. I powerwalk to the subway and back(3)

That’s serious stuff! Did you know obesity decrease 6 years of your life expectancy? And smoking decreases it by up to 10 years?! That’s insane!

Ironically, just midway through the first week of this, I broke a scale while weighing myself. Seriously. Broke it.

I’m going to die from some sort of obesity-related disease. GAHHHH!

Footnotes:
  1. It’s almost always cardiovascular or cancer, btw. [↩]
  2. And we’re not talking 7 sissy flights either. I’m talking the-stairs-of-death-on-the-X-lot-at-SDSU or the-stairs-so-high-they-require-a-little-rest-area-midway-up at Mesa College kind of caliber stairs. [↩]
  3. And that’s especially bad because my New York walk is already fast. [↩]