I think all the time about how I'm treating my body. Just yesterday, while making a tuna sandwich I wondered if I was using too much light mayonnaise. I considered the fact that tuna contains mercury, that I should monitor how much of this product I consume. How much is too much anyway?
I worried that my tuna was slathered on white bakery bread, a true diet no-no, and I found solace in only two items -- my hand-picked strawberries and the water I poured in my cup.
Wait, the strawberries were pretty plump, ripe, red, and juicy -- an indication they were possibly pumped full of hormones and sprayed with pesticides before I washed and gulped them down.
How did I do overall at lunch? I think maybe not so good. I did run 2.5 miles and completed 20 push-ups, a bunch of sit-ups, and few core exercises. Maybe I come out balanced in the end. Maybe not.
I think about this sort of stuff every day because of cancer. I've already had it -- and I don't want it again. So I try to eat right. I exercise. I don't smoke. I don't drink alcohol. But here's my dilemma: I did all this before my cancer diagnosis (with the exception of an occasional drink), and the disease still lived in my body -- maybe for many years before I knew it was there. What should I do differently now when I didn't do all that bad before?
Shall I exercise all day long? Eat only the most pure and untainted of foods? Somehow that doesn't seem much like living. So I suppose I'll keep on doing what I do every day -- living in moderation -- with hopes that I've had my one and only brush with cancer and that the bout I had was caused by something other than how I treat my body.


Here's my problem with health-related advice and wisdom -- it's always changing. And I'm never sure if I'm buying into the right practice. Should I eat
I had no idea my February 10 post
The International Agency for Research on Cancer researchers have concluded a study indicating that 3.6 percent of all cancer cases worldwide are related to alcohol drinking. 







