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When I hit 22, I realized that my 4 a.m. Papa John’s deliveries of pizza and cheese bread (Yum!) after a night of drinking had to go–especially when my dad told me I was getting a beer gut (“A day older, a day fatter,” Oct. 19 cover story). I also decided to give up my daily ice cream habit. Now at 25, I lift weights, do a lot of cardio and only eat ice cream once a week. Surprisingly, I am in better shape than I was at 21.
