Sex keeps me in shape. I don't diet, I eat what I like. I love

In the bold and unapologetic words of Lisa Snowdon, there is a declaration not merely of pleasure, but of freedom: “Sex keeps me in shape. I don’t diet, I eat what I like. I love Mars bars and I smoke and drink. But I love running off in the middle of the day to make love. It really burns up calories.” Though spoken with humor and sensual confidence, her words carry a deeper resonance—they speak of the body not as a thing to be punished, but as a temple of joy, movement, and connection. Beneath her candor lies a rebellion against the culture of restriction, a reclaiming of the truth that vitality springs not from denial, but from passion lived in balance and awareness.

To say that “sex keeps me in shape” is not to reduce life’s intimacy to mere exercise, but to recognize that the body thrives on pleasure that is alive, not mechanical. Snowdon’s philosophy echoes an ancient understanding: that the forces of desire, motion, and affection are among the most powerful energies in existence. The Greeks called this energy Eros—not just the act of love, but the life force itself, the creative fire that stirs the heart and renews the spirit. For in the embrace of another, the pulse quickens, the breath deepens, and the body awakens from its slumber. In this way, her playful remark hides a truth known to sages of old—that to live fully is to be in harmony with one’s own life energy, neither suppressing it nor letting it rule uncontrolled.

The ancients, too, celebrated this union of vitality and pleasure. In the temples of Aphrodite, love and beauty were not sins but sacred expressions of nature’s rhythm. To the philosopher Epicurus, joy was not excess but balance—the art of finding delight without self-destruction. Snowdon’s enjoyment of chocolate, wine, and smoke, though modern in form, mirrors this ancient pursuit of harmony between indulgence and restraint. Her message, at its core, is that well-being is not achieved by rigid denial, but by cultivating a life of aliveness, where joy and movement keep the spirit light and the body well.

Yet her words also challenge the false idol of perfection—the relentless pressure of the modern world to sculpt, to control, to deny. When she says, “I don’t diet, I eat what I like,” she speaks with the courage of one who refuses to be enslaved by the tyranny of image. She reminds us that true beauty cannot be engineered by starvation or shame. The ancient Stoics taught that one must live according to nature, neither overindulging nor denying what the body needs. Snowdon’s philosophy, though wrapped in humor, aligns with that wisdom: to listen to one’s own rhythms, to eat with pleasure and moderation, to move not out of guilt but out of joy. The body is not a battlefield—it is a vessel of life, meant to be cherished and celebrated.

Consider, too, the story of Cleopatra, queen of Egypt, whose allure and vitality became legend. She was known not for deprivation but for her mastery of pleasure and presence. It was said that her beauty came not from cosmetics alone, but from her aliveness—her confidence, her wit, her ability to embody the fullness of experience. She feasted, laughed, and loved without apology, yet she carried the wisdom of balance. Like Snowdon, Cleopatra understood that vitality springs from joy, from energy in motion, from the fire that passion awakens within. It is this living flame—not mere youth or vanity—that keeps the body radiant and the soul free.

Snowdon’s confession that she loves “running off in the middle of the day to make love” evokes something the ancients revered: the union of spirit and flesh, of energy and tenderness. It is not lust alone she praises, but connection, spontaneity, and the breaking of monotony. In this, there is deep wisdom. Life grows stagnant when ruled by rigid schedules and endless self-restraint. To love—to move—to feel—is to awaken the body’s natural rhythm. Just as rivers renew themselves through flow, so too does the body renew itself through joy, laughter, and intimacy. This is the vitality she describes: the strength born not of fear or discipline, but of embracing life with fullness.

Thus, from her daring words, we may draw a lesson not of indulgence, but of balance and vitality. To care for the body is not to deny it pleasure, but to nourish it with movement, joy, and connection. Let your wellness spring from love, not fear. Eat what brings comfort, but with mindfulness. Move not because you hate your reflection, but because you love your aliveness. Laugh, touch, dance, and share your energy freely, for these are the true secrets of health. As the poet Ovid once wrote, “Love is a kind of warfare”—but it is also the sweetest form of healing.

And so, let Lisa Snowdon’s words be remembered not as mere jest, but as the echo of an ancient truth: life itself is the greatest exercise. To love is to live fully. To move with joy is to honor the gift of embodiment. And to delight in the small pleasures of the world—be they a Mars bar, a glass of wine, or an afternoon spent in passion—is to remember that health is not punishment, but celebration. For it is not restraint that keeps the spirit young, but the courage to live—and love—with fire still burning in the heart.