I was a pretty lucky kid. The youngest of three brothers, I have no problem admitting I was spoiled. While my lifestyle wasn’t totally sedentary, I spent a lot of time kicking it with Super Mario and John Madden’s digitized version of American football.

My parents weren’t oil barons, but we kids had it pretty good. Want a soda pop? Hit the fridge. Need a snack? Cupboard’s full of ’em. Got a hankering for McDonald’s? If you bug mom just enough, she’ll probably take you.

I was lucky, because I had the metabolism of a jackrabbit. Not all kids are so lucky, and now I can relate. My metabolism belongs on a milk carton.