Jane Brody, in a column that thankfully does not mention her own bowels, does the unimaginable: She warns against too much exercise. I must say that's a problem I've never had, except for the occasional week during which I decide to go for a few six-plus-mile runs, feel dreadful, and return to the occasional two-three miler and a whole lot of walking far to buy muffins, frappes and the like. But this is a good side of Jane Brody, confessing to an unhealthy activity. Sure, I'd have preferred it if she confessed to a late-night Cheetos habit, but this'll have to do. Could it be that the smugness is fading? Of course, confessing to "jogging daily for about 10 years and playing singles tennis for an hour nearly every day for more years than I can remember," and to admitting, "in winter, I went ice-skating most days, and during the warmer months, I cycled 10 miles nearly every morning." Not to mention mentioning "lap swimming, which I did four or five times a week."
See, I think the reason I pick on the "Personal Health" column is that I secretly think I should be the one writing it. Unlike Brody, I believe in moderation. Moderate exercise, moderately healthy eating, moderate exposure to (gasp) television, and moderate personal-health disclosure. If the column were mine I would not once mention my own personal health beyond eating and exercise. What happens behind bathroom doors should stay there.
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