Rise of the Diets

Every once in a while, a new diet takes social media by storm. There are countless before and after shots of dramatic results proving the great success rate and the grateful customers. "In only three weeks" "In only two months" "In only four days" the testimonials proclaim, along with insane amounts of poundage lost. 

The current craze has pretty dramatic parameters. I know personally that my own body would biologically go berserk if so deprived. 

I've been obsessing a little with body types. A woman I know, after a few kids, is so insanely slender that she looks like she's levitating in her high heels. Then I speak to another three-time mother who's frustrated because she can't shed the baby weight (and yet she's still built something adorable). I wonder at the methods of the women who idly lick an ice cream on the street as they stride on toothpick legs. 

Yet I have not been drawn in by the idea of a dramatic diet plan. I'm not delusional; I know when I cheat. I know when I take too many portions. I know that I have to rediscover my self-control. I also know that weight is not gained overnight; yet many expect to not only shed it overnight, but that will remain a permanent state even if they revert to their old habits. 

Changing habits is HARD. So, so HARD. Yet more people find it easier to stick with a dramatic, short-term program as opposed to learning a healthier, long-term lifestyle. I'm proud with the progress I made. But I still have farther to go in terms of not letting food run my life. 

Some people prefer all-or-nothing approaches, but that methodology rarely works in general. Going slowly, tackling one bad habit at a time, is healthier and more likely to generate permanent success. It's not like one can do this diet then go back to eating half a challah every Shabbos meal. Change is required. Which is HARD. Blurgle. 

A Thorny Topic

I suppose our grandparents, if they saw our lives today as things were in the 1940s, would have had a good laugh: specifically, in regard to the struggle to maintain a healthy weight.  

My long-time readers would be familiar with my "Battle of the Bulge" series, in which I detailed my own experiences losing weight as well as articles discussing the science of weight loss. 

But I'll be frank. There are times when I wish this wasn't a constant monkey on my back. That I didn't have to analyze and catalogue and monitor. So I would have a day or two of "hedonism" (by my usual standards), when I stubbornly insist I don't care, I've had enough, to heck with it. Then I loathe myself for my lack of control, that it wasn't worth it, and I'm back on the straight and narrow. 

Until I'm invited out for Shabbos, and my hosts coax me to please try this and that, and I want to be a good guest. Then I taste something really yummy and chances are it's really yummy for no good reason, but I still have multiple helpings (I'm a social eater. Haven't hammered that out of me yet. Anyone got any tips?). 

Sigh. 

We've all seen the thin women casually licking an ice cream and wondering, "How does she do it?" But we don't know the rest of her life. Maybe she throws it out when it begins to melt. Maybe she's one of those people who only feel a need to nibble "when hungry" (what's that like?) 

Weight is a very thorny topic. While it's not acceptable anymore to mock different races or cultures, sitcoms still feel free to laugh at fatness. Obesity carries with it a host of risk factors, but goal weights tend to have to do less with health than with aesthetics (I am guilty of this too). 

Taffy Brodesser-Akner's article on "Losing It" describes the contradictory messages with despair. Since she was a teenager, she has tried every diet known, faddy and dangerous and otherwise. The culture has changed now, where it is no longer p.c. to tout diets for weight loss, rather lifestyle changes for health and wellness. 

But who are we kidding: It's still about weight, just jazzed up in a new outfit. 

Kathy DeVos approaches "The Problem with Body Positivity" as an overweight woman. She was a member of the body positivity movement until she was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes. She realized that while "fatphobia" is unfair, there are still health ramifications to weight. Her daughter, without her knowledge, chose to go on an unhealthy "diet" as she thought that was her only option. 

DeVos knows the topic is more nuanced than she originally thought. Fat shaming is cruel, as racism and sexism is cruel, but the flip side of the latter two are that there is no negativism associated with others. But there are negatives to obesity. 

The problem with today’s version of body positivity is that it refuses to acknowledge that no one approach is right for every person. One teenager might grow up to be healthy at any weight, and another might end up in the hospital. It left my own daughter afraid to approach me about a topic on which I have both personal experience and expertise. It left me feeling that I couldn’t voice the rational concerns I have about diabetes.

I was the “wrong” kind of body positive because I’d been forced to admit that there could be serious health consequences to fatness.

I was the wrong kind of mother because I felt I should support my daughter’s weight-loss goals instead of talking her out of them. . . 

I’m still trying to get it right. But I’ve come to feel that loving yourself and desiring to change yourself are two sentiments that should be able to peacefully coexist.

That sentiment is not unique to weight loss. That belief is what every Jew carries around every day: "For me the world was created" along with "I am but dust and ashes." 

We know how to carry seemingly contradictory messages together. "On the other hand" is a game every Jew plays.

I personally like it when I'm the weight I would prefer. But I've had a gain that refused to go away (like it usually does), much to my alarm. I was beating myself up about it, but then remembered the article by Sridhar Pappu regarding "Dad Bod." 

We do all come in different sizes and shapes. And those sizes can be affected by age. This is not a matter of unhealthy weight gain; it's five pounds. Five dinky pounds that refuse to leave. We can't claim it's a matter of health when it's really about aesthetics. In that case, obsessing over it can prevent one from focusing on other areas that requires improvement, like watching what comes out of my mouth. 

This is a thorny topic indeed.   

For the Health of It

Mo'Nique used to be the face of "Big is Beautiful." She once declared, "Skinny b****** must be destroyed!" She viewed her weight simply as being contrary the current cultural aspiration to thinness. 

But then her significant other made her realize another view.

“When my husband asked me my weight, I answered and he said ‘…That’s too much weight. I want you around for a lifetime and that’s not healthy.’ It was at that moment that I went through guilt, I went through shame, because of my size. Because I never felt love like that before.”

Reports differ as to her weight loss, but 80 pounds seem to be the average. 

 

She's eating right. She's exercising. She doesn't look like a starving waif, yet she's healthy. 

I constantly bully my audience with healthy recipes because I am trying to spread the gospel of the Rambam. We have the responsibility to care for our bodies, Shabbos brisket aside. Once, if—and that's a big if—a cow was shechted for a Shabbos, do you think everyone got a slab of their own to consume? Um, no. 

I know of a woman who beams with happiness when her husband wolfs down heaping, fattening seconds. I am quite sure she is trying to kill him. 

We can enjoy, in moderation, the sugary, the salty, the fattening. But not every day, all the time. Respect our selves by respecting our bodies. 

Yes yes, getting hit by a bus is still an option. Freakish, inexplicable diseases are a possibility. But why not avoid the avoidables, if possible?

(Spiralized) Zucchini Kugel

Ma never made potato kugel for Shabbos. She and I are fellow potato-lovers, to the point of mindless consumption. 

So, recently I have pounced upon alternatives—like this Spaghetti Squash Kugel. With hefty seasoning of garlic powder and black pepper, it came out delicious (my sister-in-law, who rarely eats vegetables, gobbled it up) and guilt-free. 

I would recommend, after scraping out the squash strands, to let it rest in a bowl for a bit so excess water will emerge, then squeeze it off. Less water, better binding.

The next week, I wanted to try my hand at zucchini. But there I was stumped. Every recipe I came across called for some sort of carb-y binding, like bread crumbs. 

For Shabbos meals, I try to keep the food as carb-free as possible, since challah takes enough of a toll. If the spaghetti squash kugel didn't need bread-binding, why should this? 

A few years ago I bought a spiralizer, and to be frank, didn't use it much. It has now increased its appeal as Ta, the lukshen-lover, is content to consider spiralized zucchini as pasta's relative. I wanted to use it for the kugel—which would also spare me digging out the food processor (although the pieces could be left in chunks as well).  

The secret it to get as much water out of it as possible. I steam it, press it against the colander, pour it over in a bowl to rest, and as more water emerges, continue to pour it off while pressing down. Then I sauté it lightly to ensure everything was evaporated out. 

(Spiralized) Zucchini Kugel 

5-7 zucchini (of any color; the above also had yellow)
1 onion, diced

3 eggs

3 cloves garlic, minced

garlic powder

salt and pepper 

1) Spiralize or grate zucchini. 

2) Make 'em limp. What I do is steam it, then press as much liquid out through the strainer, then let it rest in a bowl and squeeze out any more liquid that may emerge. But there are plenty of options how to go about that. 

3) Sauté onion until delicious. Add garlic towards the end, for about a minute. 

4) Add limp zucchini and mix. Sauté lightly just to ensure that as much water has been bullied out of it as possible. Season with garlic powder, salt, and pepper to taste. 

5) Pour over into a bowl. Add three beaten eggs and mix. 

6) Pour over into lightly greased 9x9-ish baking dish, and bake on 350° for 45 minutes or so.    

A Cautionary Tale

Jack, my boss, had the greatest of faith in medications. He would stand by my desk and wax poetic about his myriad prescriptions (between ten and fifteen) that "took care of everything," snorting at my "rabbit food" (that I greatly enjoy). 

"If a person is serious about quitting smoking," he would say, "he would take drugs, like I did." He somehow managed to make it sound that a truly selfless individual would nobly accept chemicals churning throughout his system as a means to overcome an addition.

I don't think I ever saw him eat "living food." His standard lunch was from Burger King or a deli. If he "dined" in, I would gag from the smell of the fake microwave "meals" wafting from his office. 

He was a man of intelligence. He was a man of, not quite wit, but humor. He was a man who had been looking forward to his retirement years in a sunny, tax-free locale. 

Note how I keep using the past tense? 

First came the heart operation, that required months of recovery; then the infection, caused by diabetes, seized hold of his limbs. He was in pain—constant pain. He was in and out of hospitals. He blamed it on "getting old." He wasn't old. He didn't take care of himself.

He used to grandly say to me that my lifestyle meant life was not worth living, yet his was not worth living, either. He never made it to his sunny, tax-free locale. He died in his mid-60s, young for today.

When I informed the doorman, his immediate response: "I'm not surprised." All the building staff knew that Jack didn't take care of himself.  

Ma grew up in a bland household. Zeidy battled with ulcers, which meant no zesty spices—no black pepper, no hot paprika. Babi had high blood pressure, which meant no salt. (Ma still believed her childhood to be idyllic.)

Babi was on high blood pressure medication for fifty years. But she never considered it a magic pill. She watched what she ate—and she liked her salt—knowing that the drug can only do so much. 

Her children seemed to have inherited the blood pressure issue. My uncle now officially received his diagnosis, and power to my aunt for calling Ma constantly to ask how to cook for him. Because she knows that you can't eat whatever you want and expect a prescription to fix it.  

We can't predict the future; there are a myriad of ways one can go—like getting hit by a bus. But I would prefer to try, to the best of my ability, to preserve quality of life, and really, the daily donut is sooooo not worth it. 

Ask Jack. Oh, you can't. 

Pick Your Hard

"Being healthy is hard. Being unhealthy is hard. Pick your hard." —Marilu Henner

Marilu is just jollying you along, folks. You wouldn't believe it, but being healthy isn't so hard. What is hard, I'll admit, is the initial step. That step . . . that's hard. But after? It snowballs into ease. 

Here's what you can look forward to:

A study of more than 12,000 Australians revealed that the benefits of a produce-rich diet extend beyond physical health. With every added daily portion of fruits or vegetables (up to eight), the subjects' happiness levels rose slightly. The researchers calculated that if someone were to switch from a diet free of fruits and vegetables to eight servings per day, he or she would theoretically gain as much life satisfaction as someone who transitioned from unemployment to a job. The exact reason is unclear, but it may be related to the effect of carotenoid levels in the blood.—Samantha Rideout, Reader's Digest 

I was going about it wrong. I thought I had become a happy(er) person because I was making a point to be cheerful. I'm sure that helped, but burrowing daily through the vegetable crisper could have pushed it over the top. 

Doctors, who were usually brought in to treat the aftermath, are now getting educated in healthy meals so they can, in turn, educate their patients.

Brooklyn borough president Eric Adams reversed his diabetes in no time. 

Eight months ago, Mr. Adams learned during a health checkup for abdominal pain that he had Type 2 diabetes. He said his average blood sugar level was so high that the doctor was surprised he had not already lapsed into a coma. His hemoglobin A1C level — a lab test that shows the average level of blood glucose over the previous three months — was 17 percent, about three times normal. He wasted no time in tackling his disease with fervor. Spurning the American tendency to treat every ailment with medication, he instead explored the body’s ability to heal itself.

Mr. Adams, a 56-year-old former police captain, now needs a new publicity photo. He no longer resembles the roly-poly image on official posters. By adopting a vegan diet, preparing his own meals and working exercise into his everyday routines, he’s shed 30 pounds and completely reversed his diabetes, a pancreatic disorder that can lead to heart attacks, stroke, nerve damage, kidney disease, visual loss and cognitive impairment. Within three months, his A1C level was down to a normal 5.7.

(Exercise is 20% of a healthy lifestyle. Become friends with your local fruit store first before investing in a walking desk. Going vegan isn't required, either.) 

“I loved salt and sugar and often used candy to revive me when I felt lethargic,” Mr. Adams confessed. “But I discovered the human palate is amazingly adaptable, and after two weeks without salt or sugar, I no longer craved them.” With his new lifestyle, he said he has so much energy he no longer needs an edible midday pick-me-up.

It's schnorring time on PBS, so I was blasted with Dr. Joel Fuhrman reruns this past weekend. But hey, you already know about this annoying side of me by now. 

And it really isn't hard for so long. Really. 

Reinvented Palate

My nephew . . . Jawa (not the most flattering name, but I'm running out of cute little Star Wars creature aliases) usually marches into the house and gleefully lunges at Barbara's Morning Oat Crunch, a.k.a. Babi Cereal. He can inhale three bowls in one sitting. 

On Shabbos afternoon, he discovered the chocolate stash (which is practically in plain view, being the only "junk" allowed besides for homemade cake) and every few minutes, casually slid into the pantry to snatch Kit-Kat after Kit-Kat. 

I warned him that he was going to barf soon, and I tried to distract him with Babi Cereal. He was puzzled why it "tasted different, like bread." He thought there was something wrong with that batch.

Our taste buds often operate on a comparison basis; A after B doesn't have the same flavor if A is before B. By itself, Babi Cereal is sweet enough, but it can't compete with the high sugar register of Kit-Kat. 

When people ask me about how I eat, they can't quite believe I have no desire for certain foods. Frankly, I can't believe it either. If anyone told me when I was 16 that one day I would shudder at a potato chip or Nabisco cookie, I would have laughed until my ribs cracked. 

I'm not bravely squelching deep, frantic desires for Entenmann's. I don't want it. It doesn't taste good. It has no flavor. I feel like sludge after consuming it. It doesn't do anything for me anymore. 

Currently, I am on a strict no-sugar diet (which will end soon, please God) and I moan in bliss over winter squashes, carrots, Brussels sprouts, and parsnips—seasoned only with garlic powder, black pepper, and evoo. 

Via Stranded in Cleveland

One can retrain one's taste. It takes some time, but if one holds on during the initial hard cravings, the mouth has moved on to better, tastier, healthier things.  

A Fetik Holiday to All

I can't believe it took me until now to find latkes historically inaccurate. After being unnerved by a Jeopardy! clue that stated that the latke is a knock-off from—get this—a Greek sidedish, I gave it a google, leading to "What's a Latke, Really?" by Yoni Appelbaum.

Yet I had known that potatoes were indigenous to South America, making their European debut after the explorers lugged them back in the mid-1500s. 

As for frying in oil, Eastern European Jewry did not have canola. They had schmaltz, animal fat. If shooting for miraculous similarities, that ain't exactly from an olive. 

"Ma, did you have latkes in Hungary?" 

Snort. "Nope." 

Via Dinner With Rachel

Ah. Chremslach for Pesach, at least. I always liked those better than latkes. Babi did make donuts, though, for Chanuka—fánk.

But both latkes and donuts have limited appeal. Latkes are only good while still warm, and keeping them that way without drying them out is tiresome. Donuts are great fresh. Not longer than that. 

Baruch Hashem for our lives of prosperity; every home is equipped, year-round, with extra-virgin olive oil—shemen zayis zuch. However, it has a low-smoke point, meaning it is not ideal for frying. So instead of using the oil of the neis, we use the oil of . . . dubious origin to celebrate the holiday and consume needless calories. 

I think this year, I shall commemorate Chanuka with salad dressing. How authentic!

 

Books on Change, II

The next informative text was Willpower: Rediscovering The Greatest Human Strength by Roy Baumeister and John Tierney. 

These two delve into the science of self-control: Why it is important, how much we have of it, how it is fueled. 

They posit a theory that humans are social for survival purposes, and in order to get along, one needs TONS of self-control. We can't all do whatever we want and expect to have pleasant familial/neighborly interactions.

They say, up front, that it is impossible to alter more than one behavior at a time, so don't go there (as our mussar seforim insist). This New Year should not begin with more than one item that requires fixing. Whether it is an unhealthy behavior like smoking or a toxic behavior like impatience/screaming, only one can apply at a time. 

The brain does not have separate categories for willpower; there is only one well to draw from, no matter the application. If one exhausts the supply by not killing a co-worker, for instance, h/she may come home that evening and fight with the spouse over a mildly annoying quirk. 

Additionally, one must we well-nourished and well-rested in order to have self-control since—get this—it feeds on glucose. Many who commit criminal acts have been found to be hypoglycemic (ergo the "Twinkie Defense"). That's why implementing self-control can often be exhausting; it sucks the life out of you by plowing through your physical energy supply. (Before you get excited, the best sources of glucose are from sensible proteins and vegetables, not Oreos.)

Deliciously, a lot of their scientific conclusions are echoed by our rabbanim, as heard in this shiur (cheat sheet: instead of telling oneself, "I will not eat that kakosh," say instead, "I'll have kakosh later." That fools the brain into a form of satiety, and, when the opportunity to kakosh arises, one won't necessarily even want it anymore. For reals). 

Cool, huh?

The book is jammed with more awesome revelations, like self-control leads to good self-esteem, not participation trophies.  

Books on Change, I

To get you in the fasting spirit, here's Rabbi Daniel Glatstein. 

Ah, New Years Resolutions. How they suck. 

Most of us would like to change for the better. But it's so darn hard. So I shall share books I have read recently that I found rather illuminating on the subject. I believe that if we know how our brains and bodies work, we can work with them. 

The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business by Charles Duhigg examines the science of habits, how they operate, and how they can be changed. 

He brings a number of examples from businesses to personal addictions (he was not very sympathetic to gamblers and the like), and how bad habits were overcome by altering one minor detail which resulted in a chain reaction. 

Habits work like so: 

1) Cue. 

2) Routine. 

3) Reward. 

To change a habit, one has to pinpoint what the cue is; then the mindless routine can be replaced. REPLACED. Not ignored, not overcome, but REPLACED. (Sur mei'ra v'asei tov. It's not enough to stop a behavior; one must be active in doing better as well.)

I was hoping he would provide a simple cause and effect when it came to, say, overeating (cough cough), but no such luck. I had to figure it out myself. And I did. 

Since most days of the week I arrive home at dinnertime, my routine is usually

1) Walk through door. 

2) Eat. 

3) Be nourished and satisfied. 

However, that cue is the same on Friday afternoons when I come home early, or following Sunday outings, or even applied to siblings' front doors. 

So I consciously attempted to replace the routine: Drink a glass of water. Most of the time I'm thirsty anyway, and I feel that same pleasant nourishment and satisfaction when I get hydrated. 

The whole book is quite fascinating, even though I provided the cheat sheet. 

Battle of the Bulge: When and How

Every once in a while, Luke decides to overhaul his diet. It is very tiresome. 

". . . and then instead of getting the [insert deep-fried high-carb junky food item], I get the [insert nourishing protein and non-fatty prepared vegetables]!" 

"No, REALLY?" I reply, head on table. That's it, then: I'm not preaching to him anymore, especially since he's going to take the credit for it anyway. 

 

But you won't get off so easy. Read on. 

1) I'm an early riser, early to bed-er; my appetite usually awakens with the day, and shuts up by 7 pm. However, if I am thrown off my schedule, usually do to a joyous occasion that involves late-night partying . . . well, if I eat late at night then I am not hungry in the morning, and then I crave food later than I typically would. I then have to reprogram myself to the original setting. 

"You are when you eat," this article by Emily Laber-Warren echoes. Logic—and biology tends to be logical—would dictate that we only require calories when we need fuel. Ergo, consuming food, then going to that wonderful energy-conserving activity, sleep, doesn't make much sense. 

The article contains research that shows allowing the boch to "rest" (technically fast) for 12 hours nightly gives it a boost for the next day. The Rambam advocated such a rest as well, that digestion cannot be always in motion; the organs need a break. Waaaay before hitting the sack.

The list at the end of the article does take night owls into consideration; as long as 12 hours of no food is in play, the benefits are there. 

2) I'm a J, so I'm always planning ahead. Planning my meals bring me great joy. 

Luke, however, is a P. He usually does not plan his meals. "Maybe I won't be in the mood of _____," is an oft-uttered statement of his, and yet we both know that hunger never saw bad food. Especially in the office. 

While I tote to work prepared lunches, he moseys out to take-out places. Ergo the head on the table. Fast food is not good food, that we all know. If the waist is a consideration, into the kitchen you get. 

"Time-Delayed Eating Leads to Better Food Choices" is kinda duh. 

“If a decision is going to be implemented immediately, we just care about the immediate consequences, and we discount the long-term costs and benefits,” Dr. VanEpps said. “In the case of food, we care about what’s happening right now – like how tasty it is – but discount the long-term costs of an unhealthy meal.”

On the other hand, when you order a meal in advance, “you’re more evenly weighing the short-term and the long-term costs and benefits,” he said. “You still care about the taste but you’re more able to exert self control.”

When one is hungry, one doesn't care. It's strictly short-term: Get me un-hungry. But when planning (in general), both the long and the short is taken into account. I love planning.

I have one for milchig and fleishig.

Introduction to Composting

I bear a certain—well, I'm not sure how to phrase it. Quirk? Condition? Compulsion?

Throwing away food makes me sick. 

If I wanted a cop-out, I would blame it on genetics. I inherited my Babi's love of animals, adoration of cream, hopefully her wit, and her inability to discard edibles.  

While such a predilection could presumably be virtuous, there are heinous downsides. Like swallowing down impossible-to-store leftovers despite fullness lest it be cast in the garbage. It's worse on major occasions, like family dinners or heavily-guested Shabbosim; invariably there is one salad or—heaven save me—a POTATO side dish that will not survive the night.

I am cognitively aware of the illogicality; I aspire to Spock, after all. Yet every time, I flinch as though pinched whenever good food goes into the trash. (Ma sometimes manages to hurriedly chuck it while I'm not looking.) Yet it's certainly no better when I eat when stuffed for the sake of a starch. 

In my searches, I had come across the whimsical concept of composting—collecting kitchen scraps and other waste for the purposes of sparing landfills, and in return gaining garden nourishment. What my house discards in daily banana peels alone could power an alternate-fuel RV.   

I began cheerfully hoarding kitchen scraps, purchasing a merry green compost collection pail for the purpose. It soon became clear that one would quickly overflow on heavy output days, like erev Shabbos; I bought a second for spillover. 

So what can be composted? Well, a lot of things. Not just vegetable peels, apple cores, and watermelon rinds, but egg shells, used paper products like towels and tissues (provided that questionable chemicals haven't been applied), tea bags, coffee grounds, dead flowers, and junk mail, for starters. Some say not to compost meat, dairy, or heavily fatty scraps, lest messy critters like raccoons be attracted, but trace amounts are fine. 

The test was a visit to my sister for Shabbos, an outing that typically ends in my "noble" consumption of residue. This time I toted along my new pail. Child-abandoned challah? I carefully wrapped it in a napkin and put it in. Cooled cholent? In it went. Limp cabbage salad? Heartlessly scraped in. 

I even—I even—I even managed to—oh, how it pained me—to ram in a slice of kokosh cake.

I happily hauled home a brimming pail, my belly spared a diabolical end. 

In our next session, we'll explore what to do with all that schoira.    

Battle of the Bulge: Revision

Last week I posted the disheartening results of a very small study regarding weight loss and supposed decrease in metabolic weight. But, happily, there was a larger study with less DOOM results: 

To the Editor:

Your article on the metabolic rate of “The Biggest Loser” contestants raises serious concerns about drawing broad conclusions from 14 individuals undergoing an extreme and unsustainable regimen. The National Institutes of Health study reported a considerable drop in the metabolic rate of contestants, despite a weight regain, on average, of more than two-thirds of the original pounds lost.

In contrast, my colleagues and I have published two larger studies showing almost no negative effect of weight loss on metabolism. In one study, 145 participants lost 11 percent of their weight and experienced a drop in metabolic rate of just 5 percent and a decrease in calorie requirements of 7 percent.

In another study, of 30 gastric bypass patients, weight loss was 38 percent and caused a decrease in metabolic rate of 26 percent and a decrease in total calorie requirements of 24 percent. Far from documenting adverse metabolic efficiency, these studies demonstrated a healthy parallel decrease in weight, metabolism and calorie needs.

Data from “The Biggest Loser” should not be extrapolated beyond the effects of extreme and unsustainable diets that are not recommended for general use.

SUSAN B. ROBERTS

Boston

The writer is director of the Energy Metabolism Laboratory and a professor of nutrition at Tufts University.

OK, DOOM averted, back to potential methodology: 

Intuitive eating? Gretchen Reynolds cites a small study that compared a calorie-restricted group as opposed to one that were hammered with the intuitive principles.

After three weeks, weights were rechecked, and subjects received additional counseling and encouragement. After another three weeks, the volunteers in the calorie-restriction group had lost an average of 5.3 pounds each. Shrinkage was swiftest during the first two weeks of the program, Anglin says, then threatened to plateau. But the follow-up counseling at three weeks seemed to reinvigorate their resolve, she says, and the volunteers generally lost an additional 2.5 pounds or so over the subsequent three weeks. 

The intuitive eaters began well, according to Anglin, losing slightly more weight during the first three weeks, on average, than the calorie cutters. But then their discipline, luck or bodily self-awareness apparently deserted them, and most began regaining weight. At the end of the six weeks, few had lost much weight and some had a net gain of nearly two pounds.

The upshot: Calories matter, Anglin says. Bodily messages about hunger and satiety can be useful, but they should be supplemented with some awareness of caloric intake. No one, she says, is likely to lose weight over the long term by responding intuitively to hunger with a serving of chocolate cake.

Yeeeeep.

 

It is most definitely important to be mindful, as opposed to mindless. But chocolate cake is still chocolate cake. It doesn't pass the apple test. 

Battle of the Bulge: Vengeance of the Bulge

The Biggest Loser makes for fascinating television. It's about salvation! Health! You can do it! 

Cahill, on left, gained it all back.

Except the results have not quite panned out in real life. Barring one exception, 13 out of 14 of the 2008 season's contestants have regained the weight, some with further additions, as Gina Kolata reports. 

Researchers tracked their metabolisms, which had originally been normal for those of their size, and found that they had slowed considerably following the weight loss. On top of that, even after regaining the weight, the metabolism remained sluggish. 

Further kinks: leptin is the hormone that controls hunger. When losing weight, leptin levels fall and appetites are increased. The one exception among the contestants' weight gain is Erinn Egbert, who initially lost 87 pounds by finale and shed another 20 on her own steam. "Two treats can turn into a binge over a three-day period. That is what I struggle with," she says.

With low leptin, cravings can be ever-present. According to another study, the hormone that drives the urge to eat rises as the leptin falls. In essence, the body fights any weight loss, uncomprehending that it is for it's own good. 

[Danny Cahill's] slow metabolism is part of the problem, and so are his food cravings. He opens a bag of chips, thinking he will have just a few. “I’d eat five bites. Then I’d black out and eat the whole bag of chips and say, ‘What did I do?’” 

I think I'm seeing a connecting thread . . . 

But Dr. Ludwig said that simply cutting calories was not the answer. “There are no doubt exceptional individuals who can ignore primal biological signals and maintain weight loss for the long term by restricting calories,” he said, but he added that “for most people, the combination of incessant hunger and slowing metabolism is a recipe for weight regain — explaining why so few individuals can maintain weight loss for more than a few months.”

Dr. Ludwig was not involved in the study, but was featured a few months ago on CBS in regards to his new book, Always Hungry? His premise is to forget about calories; focus on food quality. 

So here's my take. I'm not a doctor or scientist. But I can speak from my own experience. 

Over the past 13 years, I have slowly lost weight, usually in five pound increments. The first and forever step was to eat only good foods. I have learned and still learn that yummies that I thought were okay aren't (like non-dairy whip). As my diet became more and more veggie-based, low-carb, low-sugar, my body stopped, for the most part, yearning for those bad foods. 

But I also know I can't start. 

Magazines, TV, and the internet display calorie-bloated recipes peddled by waif-thin cooks, and I couldn't understand the contradiction. I then realized that these individuals can take a small piece and walk away. My one dragon that is still unslayed is that of unscheduled portion-control; faced with a buffet, once I have tasted, forcing myself not to go back for seconds is an out-and-out war. There is no "everything in moderation" for me with many things. 

I don't hanker for potato chips, like Mr. Cahill does. But when faced with a no-no that I do, I know there is no "I'll just take five." So I surround myself with vegetables, which can be consumed in infinite amounts with no ill-effects; if I overeat, it's sugar-snap peas. I'm working now on a brownie recipe that won't slaughter me if I need a real pick-me-up.

Don't believe the cat!

I do watch what other people eat and wonder why they aren't heavier; perhaps, I, too, have a slower metabolism and low leptin levels. Yet maybe by abiding by the same premise as Dr. Ludwig's, the rebound did not come. Erinn not only maintained her triumph, but shed even more. There is still hope, people, despite the study's results.

Erinn before

Erinn now

Embrace the tomato.      

Battle of the Bulge: The Myth of the "Make Up"

There often seems to be a . . .  disconnect between knowledge and practice. Being the irritating "good foods!" cheerleader, I bump into such hypocrisy often. 

I have heard individuals pontificate about the importance of a healthy diet, and not five seconds later make a crappy food choice. It's like once they've stated the fact "Broccoli is good for you," then they are free to eat anything.

According to how our brains are wired ("How Salad Can Make Us Fat" by Alex Hutchinson), this Kohl's commercial is probably a true reflection of life. Apparently, less than 3% of Americans live heart healthy lifestyles. 

Route data from more than 1,000 shoppers, matched to their purchases at checkout, revealed a clear pattern: Drop a bunch of kale into your cart and you’re more likely to head next to the ice cream or beer section. The more “virtuous” products you have in your basket, the stronger your temptation to succumb to vice.

Oddly, if there is simply a salad option on a restaurant menu, one is more likely to order the junkiest item available. 

 

We often soothe our bad choices by telling ourselves that "We'll make up for it later"—in general. Ergo the kale in the shopping cart: Once the means to "making up" is in the fridge, the sin can be committed. 

This mental quirk applies in all sorts of other areas, methinks. Like how in a moment of frustration, a parent (or an aunt) can yell at a child on a decibel level disproportionate to the crime, and when stricken by guilt, overcompensates in affection. But there is no such thing as "making up" with children; as Dr. Phil says, it takes one thousand "atta boy!"s to undo one really bad message. 

Inconsistency is what makes kids shaky. Being hollered at one minute and cooed over the next does not inculcate a sense of stability. Kids need to know with 100% accuracy what their parents' reactions will be. One has to be even-keeled from the get-go, because there are no do-overs.

I'll try not to fool myself too much this Pesach.    

Battle of the Bulge: The Meiven

Mrs. H and I were swapping our methods for weight maintenance. 

"I wake up ravenous," I was telling her. "The whole morning I can eat. But my appetite starts to taper off in the afternoon. By 7 it's non-existent. Like, 6:59 I could still munch on something, 7:01 I am no longer tempted. And if I've had a big enough lunch, I don't need supper. Maybe an apple." 

The incredibly slender Mrs. H shook her head. "No, with me, I snack at night. I can't fall asleep if I'm hungry."

"I only sleep well if my stomach's empty!" 

Hm. 

As we've discussed, everyone gains weight differently. We don't get a vote in the matter; it lodges itself on the various zones of the anatomy with seeming arbitrariness. 

I erroneously believed that in terms of weight-maintenance methodology, what works for me should also work for everyone else. Then I read Ruth Reischl's "Constant Craving," and I was perplexed. A woman who has spent her whole life battling her weight becomes a food critic, eating out night after night, and suddenly her demon is slayed? Say what? 

But she says it right there: 

The first thing I learned was to forget everything I'd ever heard about when to eat and pay attention to my body. When I did, I found that it has very definite notions about food.

Some people wake up ravenous and want an enormous breakfast; some prefer their major meals at nighttime. There's no point in fighting it. If you're the kind of person who wakes up starving, waiting until dinner is only going to make you tense, and by the time you finally get to the table, you'll eat everything in sight.

If, on the other hand, you're naturally a nighttime eater, why waste calories early in the day? I make a huge breakfast for my family every morning, but I rarely eat it myself; my body prefers its calories at night.

Listening to your body instead of your brain requires serious effort.

Sigh. It does. And my body still wins so many of the arguments, not my brain. Although it did involve homemade black bean brownie, which is not the worst sin.

My niece, a budding chef, finds food repellent in the mornings. She says breakfast is nauseating. I stared at her in horror, desperately listing off whatever was in the fridge, coaxing her to eat. But then, I find food burdensome at night. 

So here's the thing: It's the stupid mindfullness again, and listening to your body. Mine feels like sludge if I eat a heavy dinner; others can munch on a steak at 10 and sleep the sleep of the just.

Which type are you? Perhaps something else?    

Battle of the Bulge: Don't We All?

Eewok tends to feel a tad inadequate at times, being the middle child; this week she was stumped as to what her own unique talents are. So she decided to take a survey. 

"What are you good at?" she asked me. 

"Well," I answered, only half-jokingly, "I like to eat." 

Eye roll. She was not amused. 

Yes, I despite my finger-wagging about the importance of healthy diets, I love food. A perfectly caramelized pan-roasted parsnip, oh sweet dinner plates. . . ahem. 

Alton Brown, the witty host of the once "Good Eats," is an example of a fellow convert to the wholesome path. He lost 50 pounds and has kept it off, even sharing his plan in an episode or two ("Live and Let Diet").   

Thanks to the internet, we now have "food porn," expertly and lovingly captured images of the divinely baked and supremely cooked (I really should take a photography class). There is also the term "foodie," a title I dislike despite the aptness of the label (I like "flexitarian" better).

Alton hates the word too: "Alton Brown Has Had It With Foodies."

On "Food Network Star," I got so tired of hearing people tell me that the reason they should have their own show is that they love food so much. Well, so freaking what? I love food. We all love food. If we don’t, we die. Even supermodels in New York secretly love food. That doesn’t make you special. And people who want to be stars often make the mistake of thinking that it does, and that if they can just show you how much they love it, they will somehow become compelling. This is not the case. 

Yeah, what he said! I love food, but I thought that makes me typical, not remarkable. If I rhapsodize about the magic that is a Japanese yam, I'm usually met with blank stares, if not outright snoring. My passion doesn't seem to transfer. 

Liked this tidbit: 

You’re a big believer in self-reliance and responsibility. Do you see cooking as a form of self-reliance? I am, and it is. I get that there are people who can only afford to fill their stomachs with bad, cheap food. But I do think that most of us need to actually take responsibility for what we’re putting in our mouths. Obesity is not a disease. Can it be caused by diseases in certain rare cases? Yes, but the second that our society starts thinking that shoveling Big Macs into our face is a disease then we’re done, we’re done as a culture.

Battle of the Bulge: "Oblivobesity"

A number of conveniences nowadays can have detrimental side-effects. Fast food, as we all know, may provide us with more time in the now, but the long-term payout is horrific indeed.  

 

"Parents’ Denial Fuels Childhood Obesity Epidemic," as Jan Hoffman reports, reflects the current reliance on pre-packaged "snacks." 

“Often they don’t want to accept it because change means a lot of work for everyone, including themselves,” [dietician Mary] Savoye said. . .

Dr. David L. Katz, the director of Yale’s Prevention Research Center, has coined a word for the problem: “oblivobesity.”

Change is a lot of work. I certainly know that removing a beloved shortcut is torturous indeed. But surprisingly, the recovery time and adaption to a new way of doing things doesn't take so very long.

Denial is deliciously tempting. Believe me, I know. But I have found that by facing demons early on and tackling them into submission means less work down the road, after they have already managed to execute a fair bit of mischief. 

The other night at Bright Bodies, the New Haven program, Ms. Savoye facilitated a discussion in a weight-management group for teenagers. One girl, 15, had lost 30 pounds and had about 40 more to go.

“I wish my parents had done something about my weight earlier,” the girl said.

Where to start? Well, cutting sugar. That would mean no . . .  processed anything. The improvements happen so very quickly. Check out "How cutting sugar impacts kids' health." It's not about calories, it's about the sugar. And I'm a sugar lover!  

 

Another good habit to cultivate: Sitting down and processing food while it is being consumed, since "Eating on the Move May Lead to Later Overindulging." 

Battle of the Bulge: Yeah, It Sucks

Losing the weight wasn't fun and Shonda [Rhimes] admitted that she 'hated it the whole time.'

'Once I decided it wasn't gonna be fun, like, I lowered my expectations. It got kind of easier,' Shonda told Extra.

'I just changed everything I ate - and I hated all of that - and then I hate exercising and I did that, too, and I hated it the whole time.'

When asked if she found something she does like about her healthier lifestyle, Shonda quipped: 'No, I still hate it. I hate every minute of it.'

'I eat everything I want to eat but I try to make it much less and smaller portions,' she said, adding: 'But you change what your palate wants. I'm suddenly craving fish and salad.'

'It's upsetting. It's like, where's my cake?' Shonda said, adding on a positive note: 'I have a lot of extra energy so I feel much better.'

'I realized I could either spend my life going, "I wish I could lose weight," or I could just do it,' Shonda told Entertainment Tonight last week.

Here's the secret of successful weight loss: You will not enjoy yourself. 

Sure, you'll get to a point when you'll feel healthy, light, bouncy, and energetic. But you will still really really want to fall headfirst into a pizza. 

There will be times when you are hungry. But it's not quite lunchtime yet, so you sadly find some sort of household chore to keep busy for the next hour. There will be times when you feel cheated, like how the whole shul pounces on the oozing kokosh by a kiddush while you just longingly watch. There will be times when you think, "To heck with this." 

But you manage to plod along, even after a few transgressions. And all those other benefits—health, lightness, bounciness, and energy—can actually feel worth it. You won't want to eat so much anymore. You won't want to eat that thing anymore. You'll love the fact that you can fit into (nearly) whatever you like.

And you'll have confidence, because you did something difficult, and you succeeded.