Lose that ugly fat!
We’ve all fallen for those ads that shout RAPID WEIGHT LOSS WITHOUT HUNGER! Even though we know intellectually that the disclaimer “results not typical” means that they are lying, we want to believe the lie.
An article in SmartMoney talks about the lies that the diet business, a gazillion-dollar industry, perpetuates on us hopeful losers.
Here it is: 10 Things the weight-Loss Industry Won’t Say
I’ve been slowly slipping off the wagon. First it was pizza, then it was Taco Bell, then the mother of all fast food: a quarter pounder with cheese and large fries.
Yesterday, I woke up feeling like total crap and for some reason, I didn’t make the connection between the junk I was eating and the junky way I felt.
Hey, we all need to keep re-learning the same stuff, right?
So, last night I downloaded “SuperSize Me” from Netflix. I sat horrified as the story unfolded about what happened to the filmmaker’s body when he embarked on a month-long McBinge — eating nothing but McDonald’s, three times a day.
The person lolling about on the couch, too tired and depressed to get up and go to bed, was instantly recognizable. It was me.
The scariest part of the movie talked about addiction. The high-fat diet actually makes you crave more of the greasy stuff and provides a high when consuming it. Worse, McDonald’s knows it. It’s engineered that way.
After nearly destroying his health, the hero goes back to his organic vegan lifestyle (his girlfriend is a chef). It takes months to lose the weight (25 pounds) and the ill effects (high cholesterol, liver damage, vitamin deficiency) that came with his 30-day McDiet.
What he willingly did to himself, I (and millions of others) unconsciously do to our bodies every day.
I will never again see the golden arches as the gateway to fun. Beyond them lies the grave.
must get fit...must get fit...must get fit
I should be rooting for them. Everybody and his cousin made a New Year’s Resolution to start working out. The shiny new determination coupled with a free-month discount offer mailed out by the Y has resulted in an overflow at the gym. There is no place to park, there is a wait for the best machines (the ancient rowing gizmo is always free) and the entry is so packed with kids we can’t even get in the door.
The old-timers tell me this happens every January and that it will be back to normal by the end of February. And I can’t wait.
As a fairly new fitness buff myself, you’d think I’d be happy for the newbies to discover what exercise can do for their physical and mental health.
But, no. I’m counting the days until they’re gone. I hate this in myself. I’m working on improving my attitude. Meanwhile, get off of my treadmill!
Want a diploma? Lose the fat first.
Should colleges be allowed to deny diplomas to students who are overweight? CNN reports that a college in Pennsylvania is refusing to graduate students with a Body Mass Index (BMI) of more than 29 unless they take a fitness course 3 hours a week. Surprise, surprise–this has caused a bit of controversy.
As a born-again fitness nut, I applaud the intention, but the way the college is going about ensuring their graduates are fit is all wrong. Why not just make the fitness course a mandatory class for all students? That way, no one feels singled out for their physical attributes, something the administration has no business trying to regulate.
The law is tilting toward protecting employment rights of the overweight. It is now considered discriminatory to refuse to hire someone just because they are overweight. Of course, an employer can always offer a trumped-up reason. There is a long, shameful history of this practice used to deny employment or housing to people of color.
There were no rights for chubbies back in 1973, when I was applying for my first post-graduation job as a clerk at a hospital. (I had majored in anthropology, rendering myself unemployable except for my ability to type).
I spent 30 minutes filling out the comprehensive application form and handed it to the HR person, She took one look at it and handed it back. “I’m afraid you don’t meet our height-weight ratio,” she said. At the time, I was 30 pounds overweight and couldn’t hide it. Why-WHY?-didn’t she save me the half hour and the humiliation by telling me the position had been filled? There are times when a little fib is the kind thing to do. I hung my head and slunk out the door. Back home, I tried to drown my sorrow in Little Debbies. The shame hindered my dieting efforts for years.
Have you ever faced discrimination because of your weight?
It helps to talk about it.
where's the bacon? In my tummy-tum-tum.
Sometimes a girl has to have some meat. Preferably, the highly processed kind that’s mostly fat and is laden with nitrates. Or nitrites. Or whatever.
Such a day was today, and I took myself to the Omelet House, which was deserted at 10 am except for people speaking Albanian and Japanese. I hunkered down with my breakfast while reading Hugh MacLeod’s “Ignore Everyone” and scarfed down the bacon, the English muffin, a couple forkfuls of hashbrowns, and some eggs.
I’ve been paying for it ever since. After two months on a new regime of mostly veggies, my body can’t digest animal fat and simple carbs. But, oh, what a nice, salty, crunchy plate of edible sin it was.
Corky, aka Little Miss FartyPants
When I talked my husband into getting a dog, a process that involved much manipulation and some outright lying, the thing that persuaded him the most was my promise to get lots of exercise walking our new fur baby.
Two years later, I’m getting lots of exercise, but not with the dog.
Corky, our French Bulldog, is what can nicely be referred to as “untrainable.” In other words, she’s stupid. She still doesn’t understand that the halter and leash mean serious power walking, not a zig-zag nose-to-the-ground sniff fest. You’d be surprised how strong a 25-pound bulldog can be. She pulls me all over the neighborhood in search of the latest messages posted by other dogs on fence posts and car tires. Here’s a message for you: hurry up and squat!
True to the spirit of my promise, I am getting a lot more exercise now that we have a dog. Here’s how I do it. I take Corky out for a quick pee, put her in her crate and then get in the car and drive to the Y.
cataloupe with cottage cheese is even better than a peach
Do you ever just wake up and feel like nothing can stop you in your quest? That was today. I was going to cook 3 squares and make each and every one of them healthy or take myself to the woodshed. With just a bit of quality time in the kitchen, I treated my body to no fewer than nine (count ‘em – 9!) different kinds of vegetables and zero kinds of bad things.
Breakfast: Fresh peach and low-fat cottage cheese
Lunch: Quinoa with sauteed mushrooms(1), red peppers(2), Green onions(3)
Dinner: Turkey sausage, baked sweet potato fries(4), broccoli(5), and salad with romaine(6), tomatoes(7), cucumbers(8) and carrots(9).
Snack: The sweet taste of virtue. And a kiwi.
New Zealanders are hip to the noodle
This week, it’s all about the noodle. I am learning to love aqua fitness and my fine foam friend, the aqua noodle.
I wish I had invented this guy (being demonstrated at left by a bunch of New Zealanders). Not only does it hold you up in the deep end of the pool in a much cooler way than, say, water wings, you can straddle it and ride it like a pony. Oh, yeah.
I do know who invented one kind of noodle – the instant ramen variety that sustains so many college students. It was Mokofuku Ando, the Japanese magnate who spent a year in a shed perfecting the drying process and giving birth to both instant ramen and Cup-O-Noodles. I know this because I just finished a fascinating memoir called “The Ramen King and I: How the Inventor of Instant Noodles Fixed My Love Life,” The author is funny guy and NPR commentator Andy Raskin, who (whom?) I had the pleasure of meeting when he spoke to our San Francisco writing club.
My world would be no different if Momofuku had failed to reach his goal of inventing this particular over-processed, high-sodium dehydrated food, but I can’t imagine life without my aqua noodle. Thanks, nameless person who thought of this. Hi ho Silver, away!