So, my mom has uterine cancer and is not going to be with us very much longer. She did struggle with her weight for a long time, which is known to increase risk for many gynecological cancers. I don't have a time machine to go back 20 years and tell her to lose the spare tire. And I'm not wasting my time being angry about that now, because I'm trying to make the most of what we have left with her and I'm already sad and angry enough without adding that to the pile. My husband and I haven't started our family yet. When we do have a baby, she won't be in the waiting room. When I need help with a newborn or advice about parenting, I'm not going to be able to pick up the phone and call her. My heart is broken.

But I'm still here and young and healthy and I know better. I know that my genes might unleash this hell on me someday and it's my responsibility to be prepared. Maybe this disease will get me someday and I can accept that, but only if I know that I've done everything I can to avoid it. I would not be able to forgive myself if I put my future kids through this and didn't try as hard as I could to dodge the bullet. How could I even face my kids if that happened? What would I say? "You know I love you, but I didn't do everything I could to stay with you for as long as possible" probably wouldn't land very well.

All of us - Ragen, Tess, Jes, whoever - are people and people aren't perfect. Everybody fucks up, everybody sometimes eats more cake than is strictly warranted, sometimes we go out for one beer and somehow wind up having seven instead. It happens. I'm, like, a walking fuckup, personally. But nothing is set in stone - we can do better, we can work harder, we can remind ourselves that it is better to exercise than not exercise. We don't get to decide when we die, but I guaran-goddamn-tee you that if something gets you when you're 60, you'll think about what you could have done differently. And even if you don't, the people who love you will.