I am the firstborn of my generation which made me the playmate of my older Uncles and Aunt. They were between 5-15 years older than me so they were my playmates, babysitters, caretakers, confidants, and teachers. There was also a fair amount of teasing and “Mikey” moments -activities that might in some cultures be classified as torture. I love my Uncles – the young ones were my father’s brothers and they watched over me as I grew up, gave me a place to stay when I was in college and grad school, and have been my lifelong friends. The funny thing about aging is that there seemed to be a lot more years between us when I was in elementary school, and they were in college than there seems to be now. I’m in my sixties and my Dad’s two remaining brothers are approaching their 80s.

So during a conversation recently, one who has struggled with the family disease – diabetes – for a long time, and has suffered from serious complications for the last several years confessed something that made me pause. He said, “had I known I’d live as long as this, I’d have taken better care of my body!” We laughed, but I quickly wrote that down because it was both a warning and an inspiration.

Youth is the time when experiments, the feeling of indestructibility, and societal pressures lead to developing habits that profoundly impact health. Overeating, overworking, and not exercising; drinking and clubbing, minimizing sleep, and becoming a couch potato often define early adulthood. Who as a 20 or 30-year-old even thinks about what it takes for the body to thrive to age 90 or 100? Yet that is a reasonable life expectancy for many people born after 1990. For a fascinating discussion of the impact of this increased life expectancy on individual choice, societal expectations, and relational dynamics read The Hundred-Year Life, by Lifton Gratton and Andrew Scott (Audible edition 2016).

In my 20s and 30s, I recall giving little consideration to the strength my body must possess in order to live well into my 90s. But now, as I approach “retirement” age, I often think about how to maximize my resiliency for the next 30 or 40 or 50 years.

Lesson One: Don’t Smoke

So what would I tell my 20-year old self about keeping my body healthy? First, don’t smoke. I learned to smoke as a freshman in college and by the time I was 20, I was hooked on nicotine. It held me in its grip until I was 38. I finally quit because I could no longer assume the risk of getting lung cancer – I had two children depending on me. In addition to the long-term effects on my lungs and heart, I calculate that my pack-a-day habit for 20 years cost me over $15,000 in today’s dollars. So if I knew then what I know now – I’d say don’t smoke – ANYTHING- tobacco, vapor, marijuana, – reserve your lungs for one thing – good clean air. Breathe deeply and enjoy the miracle of oxygenated blood, and put the money you save in as high a risk growth fund as you can find. After all, if you smoke, you can’t possibly be averse to risk.

Lesson Two: Exercise vigorously and frequently

The second thing I would tell my 20-year old self is to never stop exercising. As a young person I was active, and I love to get out and run, play tennis, hike, walk, and then I got a car, children, and a sedentary husband, and my life changed. I would tell myself that it is important to keep the stamina and endurance of youth by engaging in every kind of exercise, strength, stretching, aerobic, anaerobic, and just plain play. Make movement and play a part of your life, and model it to those in your sphere of influence, especially your children.

Lesson Three: Love my Body

The third thing I would tell my 20-year old self is to love my body. From the tweens on, women, in particular, struggle with negative thoughts about their bodies. A lot of this comes from nothing but societal conventions about what “looks good,” rather than any understanding about what “is good.”

In my early twenties, I had never been overweight, and had naturally gravitated to a healthy diet, and yet I gained upwards of 70 pounds in my first pregnancy. “Baby fat,” stretch marks and shifts in my body’s shape surprised me and tanked my self-esteem. It started the ups and downs of dieting and body drama. The reality is that with time and a return to normalcy, my health was restored. But my body was forever changed, and I would tell my younger self not to obsess about it. Such change is expected and should be celebrated and appreciated.

Lesson Four: Guard my Heart

The last thing I would tell my 20-year old self is to more carefully consider the company I keep. I drew like a magnet either mean, indifferent, lackadaisical, selfish, egotistical, and arrogant suitors or those who were depressed, unfocused, misdirected, or criminals. As I look back, my sense of my own value as a person was lowered by these associations. I’d tell my 20- year old self to guard my heart with diligence. I’d remember that I have too much to offer to settle.

Here is the good news, even if you are a smoking, couch potato, who hates her body and can see the carnage of bad relationships in your life, don’t fret. It’s not too late to commit to living a long, healthy, vibrant life until you die full of years. Make a plan and start taking the small steps necessary to make your dream a reality.

How about you? What are the lessons you would tell your younger self? What are you doing to ensure that you are primed to thrive into your elder years? I’d love to hear your thoughts.