Be it books or logic, my, like many other students’ health, needs help.

Though this probably relates to any college student, my eating habits are less than desirable. That’s the level that comes after “clogged arteries.”

My experience with eating in college started out well. I came from a home where all the food groups were present at every meal. Then I came to the dorms, where by all logic, I should have eaten well. After all, there are dieticians working on the menu.

But, no. Instead, I had ice cream for breakfast and cereal for lunch. Dinner was my body’s savior, something for it to grasp until morning rolled around. When I started working, I helped many other students support the Kraft corporation by eating macaroni and cheese (the instant version) for many, many nights. I haven’t eaten it in a year.

The finals week of freshman year was the pinnacle, when I survived on Mountain Dew and ice cream sandwiches for a few sad days. Talk about addiction: When I got home, my parents made a great dinner, and I still found myself craving ice cream sandwiches.

Moving to an apartment elicited all sorts of ideas about eating healthy. Those lofty goals were squashed in about three days, unless my roommates cooked. Which, by the way, my stomach thanks you.

Upon my 21st birthday, beer legally entered the picture. Try the Junior 15. Or 20. Might I add that exercise was not exactly on the top of my list at any point in time?

Tons of books and magazines are written each year on the subject of eating and being healthy. Millions of people pay money each year to buy these books and read the pages to find the logical answers hidden there.

“Eat three balanced meals each day, the largest of which is breakfast, etc. …” and then they go on to tell you that the healthy diet should include fruits and vegetables as well as some protein and dairy. Oh, and you should exercise, too.

Basically, all the stuff we learned in third grade. I became one of those people who buys books and/or magazines about health about six months ago. The first one was Runner’s World, which had pretty good and logical advice, but … you had to be a dedicated runner to pull off the massive amounts of carbs in the diet. I was missing the main link & the exercise.

Then I got a book about walking (Yes, walking, and no, it doesn’t tell you how). It included schedule upon schedule about how to incorporate walking and weights with a diet to get fit. While the idea was good, it didn’t fly.

It was (sigh) boring. Every day, same old thing, blah, blah, blah …

The most recent purchase relies on Hinduism as its basis for detailing ways for females (and males, to a lesser focus) to balance their spiritual, physical and mental lives. So far, so good. Then it goes into why the chick wrote the book.

Now, every book I’ve tried includes success stories like, “Sarah was depressed and needed a change. She tried eating breakfast every day and walking, and suddenly, her energy levels went up, and her depression went away,” or some such thing.

This one has a real success story. Bri Maya Tiwari, who wrote “The Path of Practice,” had cancer, and it got really bad. Basically, the doctor gave her a death sentence and, being depressed, she went into seclusion in Vermont to die alone. Instead, she found herself turning to Hinduism and eventually, her ancestral practices of praying. After the doctor gave her a clean bill of health, she found that she couldn’t be the same person any more. Now she writes about returning to natural food and meditation to keep a clean mental and physical state.

Many times, I say the reason I don’t eat well, or exercise, is because I don’t have time.

The book takes that into account and acknowledges the problems in meeting the recommendations of the practice. Not everyone has time or a wooden stove or a nature food store around the corner.

However, she does encourage bringing attention to the different parts of being slowly into the routine one already has.

At last, a book that tries to adapt rather than change. This may be the ticket & either that or once again, I’m a pawn in the system that promotes junk food.