At age 14 I was 5’10″, weighed about 130 lbs. soaking wet, and could easily swim a couple of miles, bike twenty or so, or run for blocks without working up a sweat. I was a kid–I didn’t know that stuff was EXERCISE, it was just what we did. We often rode our bikes over 10 miles of hilly road to the next town, water skied for hours, and rode back, in the heat of a central Florida summer–and those weren’t 10-speeds, folks, we’re talking 1958 here.
But now I am a man, and I have put away the things of a child.
Now I’m 6’3″, weigh about 230, and I’m ashamed to tell you what kind of shape I’m in. I know what I need to do, preach it to others, but I rarely do it myself. It’s all about using the human body the way it was meant to be used.
We were designed to walk long distances, eat small high-carbohydrate snacks of fruit and berries, interspersed with a good deal less protein, and occasionally gorge on fat when someone managed to kill a large animal. (That’s where the hard-wired taste for fatty foods came from.) We ate roots and berries, threw rocks at rabbits, and walked to the next spot where we might get food. All the time. Year in and year out.
We died because we got injured, or in a fight, or because our teeth wore out from the gritty food, but it’s a hundred-dollar bet we didn’t have heart attacks.