Watching What Other People Eat

One of the people on the Leaving 190-ville team (SparkPeople) likes the quote at the bottom of my messages: "The toughest part of a diet isn't watching what you eat. It's watching what other people eat." I don't remember where I stole that from, but it's certainly true!

Once you're under 200 pounds, you start to approach the 'normal' range of weight (or, in many guys' cases, the 'fit' range). You can buy clothes in 'regular' stores. You may be able to give up the seat belt extender in airplanes. Your endurance increases. Your feet hurt less. Blood pressure drops. Diabetes becomes easier to control.

Then, you start trying to eat like 'normal' people too, and the days of salads and sugar-free tea go out the window. You're still trying to reach a lower weight, or are trying to eat a 'maintenance' diet, but everyone else is enjoying themselves!

You and your friends go out for pizza, and you know you better not have more than 2 pieces, preferably cheese or veggie. Your friends are going to eat at least half a pizza each. You have Sunday dinner with the family, and Mom brings out the bread and butter. While you indulge in one piece with a 'naughty' amount of low-fat oleo, everyone else is slathering the butter on and demolishing the loaf. When you visit IHOP, you mentally calculate how many calories you'll have in your other meals for the day before you order (suggestion: make this brunch and only have ONE other meal that day). At the tables around you, people are having all-you-can-eat pancakes, bacon, eggs, and hash browns. The kids' soccer team goes to DQ for a post-game treat. They order Blizzards while you have a vanilla cone or a small sundae.

And, of course, all of these foods are being washed down with gallons of sweet, delicious, evil pop. You're still trying to convince your liver that water isn't bad for it (at least I am).

Often, I can just look at these people's butts to remember that I am not the one eating the wrong amount of food. One time at IHOP, my spouse speculated that a man at a nearby table would be lucky to see his son reach adulthood. My skinnier co-workers may indulge in pizza or donuts occasionally, but I know what Spartan lives they normally lead. It sure doesn't feel that way when we're eating treats together, though! You feel like the odd person out, the one who can't do what normal people do.

I'm not surprised some dieters become food Nazis with their families and friends. It's got to drive them nuts, seeing everyone else having all the fun. Eating 'regular' foods with your family (or going to 'regular' restaurants) is also more challenging than having a fridge that ONLY contains skim milk, spinach, and skinless breast of chicken. It'd be so much easier if everyone else ate the same things you did.

I'm still trying to find that balance without going medieval on everyone else. Often, I just take smaller portions or cut out one of the sides. I split entrees with my wife or order the Happy Meal at McDonald's. It may appear abnormal, but, trust me, it's not.

Barriers to Exercise for the Overweight

I've been having an interesting conversation on Twitter with Bill Yates, MD (@wry999). He made an excellent blog post about exercise attitudes in the overweight at:

brainposts.blogspot.com/2009/12/exercise-attitudes-in-those-overweight.html

I posted a reply complimenting him on the post. I added that most obese women will not swim, even though it is one of the safest and most effective exercises for large people, because they don't want to be seen in a swimsuit.

He replied, saying that I had a good point. Did I have any suggestions for breaking through these attitudinal barriers?

I've found that classes where all the participants are large seems to help, especially if they’re in an area with little foot traffic. Exercise videos that people can do behind closed (and locked) doors also help. Our culture's shaming of the obese is not helping the problem. We often use shame as a motivator. These people often have a motivation to exercise, but their fear of public exposure and criticism is a stronger motivation to avoid it.

I didn't realize how little I care about the opinions of others until I began interacting with other people on SparkPeople.com . I was willing to do the swimming, the public walking, the struggling with weights in front of college-aged men. I even did a few sessions of hip-hop and Zumba classes with slender young things wearing official exercise clothes (I was wearing baggy shorts and old T-shirts). Most hardbodies aren't cruel, and the young men at the YMCA even cheered when I managed to get the overhead press over my head. My flat feet and weak back stopped my progress on several occasions, but never embarrassment.

I realized, as I mentioned this, that there is another barrier to exercise for large people that was not mentioned in the study Dr. Yates reviewed: most exercise videos and classes are geared to the already fit, not the beginner and/or the obese. It takes longer to learn the moves, we don’t move as quickly due to our size, and we are slamming a lot more weight on our joints than most people. Some people drop out, discouraged, while others (like me) wind up in physical therapy (I'm a three-time 'winner' in PT). I have videos on my shelf that I tried once and put away because I knew they could injure me (including one Tai Chi video that did injure me).

I've lost about 70 pounds. Most of that was done through eating less, but it was also done through walking, public swimming, strength training at home without weight machines, and Leslie Sansone/SparkPeople videos. The shaming needs to stop, and more exercise programs need to be tailored to the special risks of the obese.