This Is A Lesson I Wish I Learned Earlier

In the early 1990s I was anchoring the news in Oak Hill, West Virginia. Several times a week, I taught step aerobics at the Holiday Inn in town. In an attempt to “get physical” enough to burn off the low-fat SnackWells Devil’s Foods cookie cakes I’d eaten the night before, I’d step on and off the low plastic benches for about an hour. I anticipated leaving the class with sculpted bodies and buns of steel. No matter how tired I was, I always made it to that step class. For most of my 20s and...